


Hereafter

by skydark



Series: Candor [2]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-21
Updated: 2011-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-14 22:41:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/154258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skydark/pseuds/skydark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years later proves the truth still hurts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second story in Candor Verse

18 months of torture, no, not torture, indentured servitude. No, wait, slavery. It had been slavery.

18 months of court ordered slavery, disguised as probation, and handed over ruthlessly to the most vindictive, spiteful and manipulative bastard in all of the Amestris Military.

He'd had to do all the _laundry_ and clean the _toilet_ and although the bastard didn't make him cook every night, _(because he made him go out and get a part-time job!)_ , he had to make breakfast on Saturday mornings.

18 long, grueling months with the most benevolent captor possible.

The one who taught him that he could live for himself.

**

After the probation; after the part-time job to pay the general back for his fines while he was on probation; after the psyching himself up Ed made a venture out into the world without either the general or Al. It was an intimidating place, and it was to some extend, rather scary.

Three and a half years and fourteen jobs later, here he was, where he didn't see himself being; on his own.

He had a small apartment above a shop that sold hardware. He had a job in the bowels of a research laboratory that contracted out to both the private sector and the military. He had a boss who was ex-military and rather unimpressed with Ed's own ex-military credentials. He had a brother, working in the south and a general who was...well there was no real classification for what Roy was, back in the heart of Central he saw on the holidays.

His bike still ran.

Carla and Darla wrote him from grad school.

He had a _life._

How the hell did that happen?

He didn't dwell on it as he punched his time-card in, deposited his lunch in the break room ice box and meandered down to his lab. Ed's job was to Make Things Work. He was alchemy for hire, he was in charge of dumbing down arrays for lack of a better term, so every Tom, Dick and Harry could use them. Mainly in the field of construction.

Who wouldn't shell out big bucks for an array that you drew out with a chalk spreader, piled a bunch of nails and wood into it, put your hands in appropriate places and wah lah, instant framing of a building.

"Welcome to the cave," Skeeter called from the back of the room. The lab sucked light. It was quite the phenomena, and no one, not even Ed could seem to figure it out. They hung extra light fixtures, went though tons of light bulbs and still the large cinder blocked room in the center of a larger cinder block building just did some strange black hole-ish thing and ate any available light only begrudgingly leaving just enough glow to squint by.

What the fuck was Skeeter's real name anyways, and would he ever find out? Ed snorted and snatched his lab coat off the coat rack just behind the door. Who had an assistant named 'Skeeter' anyways? He suspected the reject assistants were being fobbed off on him.

Lambchop showed up then, swinging the door open and hitting Ed with it.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry boss, are you ok?" he gushed with his usual grin, then waved excitedly at Skeeter in the back of the room, "Oh my gosh, I can almost see you today! Have we formulated thousand watt light bulbs yet?" he called cheerfully.

Ed was wrong, he got the rejects from the reject assistants.

**

They all stood around in duck canvas aprons with tools in the pockets, heavy work gloves and hi-tech safety goggles on.

"This is so exciting," Lambchop said, "just think, if this works maybe we'll get a bonus! Look at all these tools in my pockets, I wonder what they are for," he said merrily.

"Keep your goggles on this time, try not to be a shit magnet, ok?" Ed snarled at him. On the other side of the array Skeeter was picking his ear, when he saw Ed looking at him he hastily picked up the pile of wood sticks by his feet and tossed them into the array.

They were idiots, but he would be damned if they weren't idiots who could talk therom and dynamics and just what it took to recomposition wood and nails into building frames. Ed wasn't use to having people who could marginally keep up with him, much less think of things he _hadn't_.

"I'll bonus my foot up your ass if this doesn't work, how the fuck long do we have to keep on this array, it's working this time," Ed growled menacingly.

"If we get a bonus we should go out," Lambchop said, clapping his heavy work gloved together. "We should go out and drink, you come to this time boss," he chirped.

"No way in hell," Ed grumbled.

"You're a bastard," Skeeter said, "you never want to do what the other labbies wanna do, and you're mean to us and don't let us have sunshine."

"Shut up and get ready to transmute, you do it this time because Lambchop has a scar from last time," Ed hissed.

"If I transmute this, and it works, it will be because Lambchop and I figured it out and you only did the grunt array drawing, so if it works, you are going out with us and you are drinking," Skeeter said.

"If that's what it takes to shut you up, then I'll do it, get this show on the road," Ed said with a wave of his hand.

"I'm thinking good, positive thoughts!" Lambchop yelled throwing his own hands in the air as Skeeter bent to touch the array.

**

Ed had to be half dragged into the bar. Lambchop was tall and thin, but he had an uncanny strength for all his wiriness. He also had short, cotton blond hair and a smile a yard wide. He was always happy, how was he always so damn happy and he made Ed sandwiches when Ed didn't even ask, _(but wanted them anyways)_. Why would someone like Lambchop want to hang out with him? He didn't get it. He was rarely nice, never polite, shunned all company functions, _(while Lambchop organized them)_ , was only barely civil to his boss, _(the ex-drill Sargent, frankly, he sorta reminded Ed of a male version of Hawkeye, so he was a little intimidated, but just a little)_ and went out of his way to point and laugh whenever Lambchop or Skeeter made a mistake and/or shed blood. Ed knew good and well that the boy's name was _Lambert_ , but he'd forgotten that first day and Lambchop had slipped out and it stuck, now _everyone_ called him Lambchop and he didn't seem to mind. How could he stand to be called such a prissy, girly nickname that Ed himself had inflicted on him? Why would HE want to hang out with Ed?

Why? Why?

In the bar he'd just been dragged into was Skeeter, waiting on them. Skeeter was only a little taller than he was himself with red hair that seemed to stand straight up at all times like he was permanently surprised. He had freckles and fish lips and squinted at everything so it was difficult to tell what colors his eyes might have been. Ed often chased him around the lab, _(sometimes with a clipboard or a hammer)_ yelling orders in his ear. Skeeter was a Master Procrastinator and Ed restrained himself mightily because a felony conviction for criminal destruction of property was still the better felony conviction and not the one for capital murder, which Skeeter often made Ed long to commit. He rode Skeeter hard because Skeeter was _smart_ , a lot smarter than he wanted to appear and he constantly amazed Ed with his out of the box observation and his ability to spin any situation. Why he wanted to work in the cave like lab with only Ed, the Scurge of the Company, and Lambchop the girly-man was beyond Ed's keen. He could be so much more. Why did HE want to hang out with Ed?

Why? Why?

Ed found himself sitting between the two and he turned his head slowly back and forth between them.

"Drink BEER," Skeeter suddenly roared, "it's a manly drink! We men types drink it all the time! It's make from fermented hops and barley, I bet you know that because you're a famous alchemist, or so we've been told!"

"No," Lambchop said, laughing with abandon, "drink the fruity drinks! You get these little paper umbrellas and you can take them home and use them in your diorama! I have a lovely park scene and all my ladies are carrying festive umbrellas!"

They grabbed Ed on each side when he attempted to escape the bar stool and laughed at each other over his head.

"Chill, chill," Skeeter said, releasing Ed's arm and patting it, "we're only messing with you. It's the initiation rite you see, we get you to come out with us then we mess with you all night."

"Only we won't mess with you all night," Lambchop said, grinning his agreement, "because we know how uptight you are."

"I'm not uptight," Ed said, smoothing himself down from being ruffled, "what makes you think I'm uptight?"

"You got a sphincter rating of negative ten is the first give away," Skeeter said.

"Do you grind your teeth at night, too? You should get one of those little trays to put in your mouth," Lambchop said, tapping his lip.

"Ok, I'm here as promised, give me a beer and let me drink it so I can go," Ed said curtly. "I don't know why you wanted me to come out with you so badly anyways. It's not like I'm any kind of life of the party or anything."

Skeeter and Lambchop exchanged another look over Ed's head, then Skeeter turned to signal the barkeep.

What would they even talk about? Ed was at a loss himself, not thinking of the first thing he could say that wasn't work related and he wasn't that much of a bastard to make them talk work on their time off, so what was it they wanted from him? Did they want him to like them or something?

 _Take me out where?_

The voice in his head startled him, and he caught himself before he whipped around to see if the general was standing behind him. He hadn't seen the man in months, so what would he be doing here?

 _Why do you want me to go out with you so badly?_ the general in his brain asked.

 _Well why not? We worked together, we've been through a lot together, I just want to know you better, I just want you to like me..._

Fuck, oh fuck.

 _It's just like that! Only they're me and I'm the General. I don't know what to do or what to say! I'm not the General and I don't know how to be someone that other people like and want to be around. That's why I needed Al, that's why I needed Roy._

Ed rubbed his face and looked between the two again.

 _I want this, don't I? I want to be a person other people want to be around. That's what this whole fucking thing has been about, hasn't it? And I'm strong, I am. See Roy? Not a fuck up, I know how to be a good person...I guess I just need to take all that bullshit you fed me and turn it into like...practical demonstrations or something._

"You know why I want you to come out with us?" Skeeter said, distracting Ed from his inner revelations, "because they finally got someone in there that's smart and worth a damn, that's why. Because I want to get to know you outside you shouting and throwing shit at my head all day. I mean damn, you're actually making stuff work and you listen to me and Lambchop, so there. You like answers, I gave you one."

 _They want me to like them. Do I? Yeah, I like them. So I guess that's what you were trying to tell me all along, wasn't it? You told me I had to break the unlovable rule, looks like I did it._

"That department has been really hard to work in," Lambchop said, folding his hands on the bar, "but now it's fun. Now we are doing what we wanted to do all along. So we want to thank you for taking the job and letting us do our jobs and actually letting us make arrays and help. So thank you boss, I don't think a lot of bosses get to hear it, Skeeter and I decided if we ever got a good boss we'd try to keep him and tell him thanks a lot."

"I...uh...I'm glad you think I'm a good boss," Ed said, kind of at a loss, kind of new to this and kind of nervous.

"You're not a great boss, I mean you're mean as a freakin' rattle snake and you curse the paint off the walls, but yeah, you're a _good_ boss, I'll give you that," Skeeter said airily.

"Yeah, if you let us have naps and hot chocolate breaks, then you're be a _great_ boss," Lambchop said with a conspiratorial wink.

"How about I let you live to see the end of the day," Ed said, happy when a beer mug was pressed into his hand. "I think that makes me a great boss," he said before taking a swig. "In fact, I think that makes me a _damn fine_ boss, letting you live and shit. Better drink to that," he said, fixing them with a look.

Lambchop and Skeeter raised their own mugs and took similar swigs.

He'd gone and made friends. Who knew he had it in him? All this practical application of all that bullshit be a person theory that the general shoved at him for 18 months. He'd be fucked if it wasn't working.

How the hell did that happen?

**

"Bet you recognize this building," the man said, pulling up to the booth at the gate and showing his ID. "We got a one o'clock appointment with Colonel Rainer," he told the guard in the booth.

John Collins was no stranger to the military himself. He'd spend ten years in the infantry with his short hair cut and brisk manner to show for it. He was Ed's immediate supervisor and in charge of the military contracts. Ed spent a lot of time working on said contracts, so John thought a face to face with the man in charge of the current contract for bid, so Ed could discern whether it was worth bidding on, would be a good thing.

"Yeah," Ed drawled, "I spent a lot of my formative years prowling the halls of this place. Must be why I'm so fucked up."

John snorted a laugh as they were admitted and went to part in the visitor's lot near the main gate.

"Still got any friends here?" John asked, getting out of the truck and locking the door behind him.

"A few," Ed said, following suit. "One of them is a General now."

"That's a good one to know," John said, heading for the visitor's entrance with Ed on his heels. "Is he stationed here?"

"Yeah," Ed said, waiting his turn for a visitor's pass.

"Maybe you'll get to see him," John said as they headed inside.

**

The meeting was not necessarily long and kind of interesting. Ed was finding, despite himself, he was really getting into this 'work' thing, because it gave him all sort of challenges; and yeah, it gave him his drinking buddies, too, but challenges were challenges and he loved those.

"An array to make a heavy armor light enough to put on vehicles," Ed said, looking at the folder in his hand. "The military comes up with all the cool toys," he grinned.

They were heading down the hall to main reception when a group of officers rounded the corner in front of them. A blue uniformed cluster, talking amongst themselves and moving at a clip, like they were going somewhere important. As they came abreast of Ed and John, the center of the formation came to a slow stop and the others moved a few uncertain steps past him, looking back.

"I'll catch up," Roy said, waving the group on.

**

It was good to see him, really good. He looked fine, just as Ed remembered and he was very gracious to Ed's boss, but then, Roy knew how to be a major _(or general)_ suck up.

"I'm pleased he finally found a position worthy of his skills," Roy said, shaking John's hand and Ed felt his chest swell a little, "I know how difficult he can be to work with, so I really appreciate your position and extreme patience," Roy continued on and Ed wanted to hit him.

"He's not so bad," John said, giving Ed a smirk, "and you're right, the biggest talent we've ever had. Were you his C.O. when he was enlisted?"

Roy slapped John gravely on the shoulder, and nodded, then he and John looked at Ed again.

"What?" Ed said, nostrils flaring, fists clenching.

"Did stomping his instep ever stop him mid-rant? I'm curious," John asked. "I've been thinking that might work, but I'm not sure and I get confused about which foot I should stomp."

"Actually I found it's better to bait him into confusion, there are a few techniques I've picked up...," then Roy looked at Ed again and he and John stepped away.

"Oh FINE," Ed seethed, "I'll just wait in the truck!"

And he stomped away.

**

There was a tap on the truck window and Ed looked at the man standing there, shut the folder and rolled the window down.

"Did you have fun telling my boss how to humiliate me?" Ed said, putting his elbow up and his chin in his palm.

"Oh, he didn't need my help," the general said with a smile, leaning there and folding his arms.

"So where is he?" Ed said trying to see past Roy, "Did you let him into my personnel record or something?"

"Noooo, I just pointed him at another contract lead and came out here to keep you company while he's gone," Roy grinned. "You look good and the man in there is very impressed with your talents. I sense that your social skills are still completely lacking, but you've found a job to accommodate even that. You're still a miracle, Edward."

It was good to talk to him, out here alone where they could really talk.

"Tell me how things are going here in the big city," Ed said. "Not that I miss it or your couch, just want to know."

"Everything is pretty much the way you left it, including the couch," the bastard grinned. "It's nice and quiet now however, I do like that. I miss Carla and Darla but Larry says hi."

"Moving out to the quasi-suburbs has robbed me of all the interesting bars," Ed sighed. "People bring their dogs and tie them to the lamp post outside of the one I go to now. It has a polished wood bar and a restaurant area with nice seating. It sucks," Ed grinned.

"And yet you go with...Steve and who else? Oh that poor kid you call Lambchop," the general said.

"No no no, you never listen, it's Skeeter and Lambchop, gah, do I have to make you a flash card?" Ed said.

"Well I only see you on the holidays," the general said, "so it's hard to keep up. Speaking of which you'll be coming next month?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Ed grinned.

Because in truth? He really missed the bastard.

"I got a letter from your brother," the general grinned. "He's thinking about signing on again for another five years and I really wish he would because he's doing such great things. All I hear are really glowing reviews and that project is just the darling of the brass, me being one of the brass you understand. Al is just gifted in that position. Did you go and see him like you said you were going to?"

Ed had been to see his brother many times since getting out of his indentured servitude, the most recent being in the past few months.

"Yeah, I did. We went and hung out at a friend of his that has a pool in the his back yard, I enjoyed it," Ed said, leaning his head back against the door frame. "There's a good restaurant there, too. We pretty much just did nothing but hang out and eat...it was great."

"Havoc is up for promotion, did you know? If he gets it he'll want a party. You'll have to keep a weekend free," the general said. "I really wish you'd get a car; every time I see you on that bike I keep thinking it's going to fall apart beneath you. Really Ed, get a car, then transmute it anyway you like."

Ed whipped the folder up he had in his lap.

"You know funny thing you say that since the military wants me to make an array that can armor cars on the go," Ed grinned a bit manic.

"Why do I ever think you'll just take a suggestion at face value," Roy sighed.

"Heeeyyyy, is that Hawkeye over there?" Ed raised his hand to wave at a figure on the steps, standing with hands on hips.

"That's my cue to go," Roy said. He grabbed Ed's hand and just squeezed it. "It's great to see you, call me if you need anything. If I get down your way before next month I'll call you and we'll eat out or something."

Ed squeezed back. Because he could, because he was accepted and loved and he had this great man here who liked to see him. It always hurt when he left to go back home, but it was a good hurt, not a hurt he'd burned all his bridges and could never come back again.

"Yeah, I hope you get down my way, I'd like that," Ed said.

And he sincerely meant it.

  
**

The three of them pushed the derelict car in through the bay door and into the warehouse space they'd been granted in order to conduct their research.

"We can work with the bay door open, oh Skeeter, we get sunlight and fresh air! See, taking him out and getting him trashed once a week is paying off," Lambchop said, bouncing around on the balls of his feet.

"I guess it's time to work on plan B," Skeeter chortled as Ed attempted to pry open the rusted driver's side door.

"Plan B?" Ed grunted, jamming his automail fingers into the crack between door and frame, "Do I dare ask what plan B is?"

"Getting you laid of course," Skeeter said, leaning over the hood. "I mean, just getting you drunk makes you amicable, imagine what getting you laid will do."

"He's right," Lambchop said, hands on hips. "The release of pheromones has an enormous effect on a person. Why, it might even broaden your vocabulary beyond 'fuck', 'what the fuck are you doing?' and 'do I have to fucking kick your ass?'! I think this is a wonderful plan."

Ed has stopped yanking at the car door and was looking back and forth between them. Skeeter wiggled his eyebrows at him, Lambchop nodded sagely at him.

"You're both fucking lunatics," Ed snorted.

"See, it's working already," Lambchop said and nodded at Skeeter.

"No, there is no working," Ed said waving his hands. "What makes you think I need to get laid? I'm doing just fine without any layage. It's a hassle, messy and a waste of good research time. I suggest you two also lay off the laying until this is over."

"Spoken like a man who isn't getting any and hasn't had any in a long time," Skeeter said, looking significantly at Lambchop.

"This is worse than we though, this is like a laying emergency. Poor Boss, I had no idea, and now I feel blind and shallow because I thought we were bonding so well, but here I didn't even know he didn't have a piece of ass. I mean look at him! How can that not have something sheathed on it at least once a week," Lambchop put a hand to his throat and fluttered it. "I think I might cry."

"No more talking about my apparent lack of ass!" Ed half yelled. "This is a change of subject time, ok, changing the subject to something that is nothing to do with ass or anyones lack of it, ok? We are here to do a job, we aren't getting paid to stand around talking about asses!"

"He's embarrassed, poor guy," Skeeter said, crossing his arms on the hood and resting his chin on them. "I'm with you Lamby, I feel kinda bad, I mean you think you know a guy and then you find out he's not porking anything and you just have to wonder what is wrong with him."

Lambchop presses his knuckles to his lips, apparently overcome by Ed's lack of action for a few moments. Then he took a few deep breaths and fanned himself with his hand while studying the ceiling of the warehouse before he could speak.

"I want to ask you something and I don't mean it to be to personal," Lambchop half whispered. "We know you have automail and it must have been a pretty serious accident...was there anything else about the accident that was...I mean is there anything you want to share with us that maybe is the reason you don't seem interested in one of the most basic necessities of mankind?"

"Are you...calling me dickless?" Ed said, jaw dropping, eyes widening. "Did you just say that you think I haven't got a dick? Is that what I'm getting out of this? OF COURSE I HAVE A DICK YOU FUCKTARD, WHAT THE FUCK, WHAT MAKES YOU ASK ME THESE THINGS?! I HAVE ONE AND IT WORKS FINE, OK?"

"Oh thank god," Lambchop blubbered, "I was so _worried_."

"Well that settles it, if you got a working dick you need to get laid," Skeeter said, slapping the hood of the car as he stood back up. "So let's work on the array thing and work out how to get the boss some ass."

Ed had to take a break then, far, far away in another part of the building.

**

"When cruising for a companion for the night you must remember three things; boobs, ass and geography," Skeeter said. "The first two are self evident, but the last one is the most important. Never, ever boff a girl who lives in your neighborhood. Always remember to casually ask where they are from _before_ you consider them prime hitting-on material. Nothing is more awkward than never returning a phone call and then running into them in the market. Trust me on this, not a pretty scene."

Skeeter took a sip of his beer trying to look scholarly and wise.

"What, you want me to take notes?" Ed sneered into his beer. "Is there going to be a quiz?"

"Negativity!" Lambchop said loudly. "What was out little talk about? Negativity and how you ooze it out of your very pores and we agreed, Skeeter is my witness, that you would be less of the negativity beast and more of the positivity pusher. We did now didn't we? We did, tell him Skeeter."

"What ever stupid frou frou crap Lamby is spouting I'm all behind it," Skeeter said, drinking more beer.

The general would probably be rolling in the floor right now. He would probably have inhaled beer thought his nose. The general who was the epitome of getting some would gleefully point out just why geography and negativity were the lamest tools in the fight to get laid ever. The general would then tell Ed what he really needed to know about getting laid; not that Ed was looking to get laid. The general would probably have some advice about not getting laid, too. Ed sort of wished the general were here to give him that advice, instead of being almost an hour away in the heart of Central keeping his advice to himself. He should visit the general more.

"Oh for goodness sake, let me show you how this is done," Lambchop said, spinning around in his bar stool and surveying the crowd. "Ah, there is a likely candidate, she has a nice Coach bag." Lambchop cracked his knuckles and slid off the bar stool and eases his way into the crowd. Ed and Skeeter turned in their barstools to watch.

Lambchop approached his intended prey. He touched her on the shoulder and leaned forward to whisper in her ear. She was polite enough to listen and then she was polite enough to smile. She pulled back a little and nodded at him, then swung her purse forward as if to show it to him. He made several serious looking comments about her arm bag and pointed out it's more intricate details, then put his hands on his hips and seemed to really go into some in depth and analytical discussion with her.

"Well, this should be really good," Ed said causally to Skeeter. "At least we can buy him a beer when he wonders back over with a hand bag shaped bruise on his face."

"What kind of girl goes for a guy who can talk fashion accessories with her? It would be more like dating one of your girlfriends. You know if she and that brunette chick beside her were girlfriends I wouldn't even mind them dating. In fact I'd pay them to let me watch them date," Skeeter said nodding.

Ed looked over at Skeeter. "Be honest with me, you date your right hand a lot, don't you?" he said.

"Probably as much as you date your left hand," Skeeter nodded, "because no part of your anatomy should be in your right hand if you aren't intent on pulling it off."

"What do you know," Ed snorted. "I use to tutor a pair of identical twins that makes every girl here look like last place in the Miss Pie Eating Contest. I'm sure if they put their mind to it they could've tag teamed some lucky bastard into an early death. Ah, good times, good times."

"I notice you aren't dead yet," Skeeter said, twisting behind him to get his beer.

"Eh, I had issues, still have issues I guess," Ed said. "And they wanted my old C.O. more than they ever wanted me...I wonder if he ever scored with either of them? I hope not. I'd hate to have to hurt him."

The girl Lambchop was chatting up suddenly took him arm, and she and Lambchop looked over at Ed and Skeeter and Lambchop smiled and shrugged, then disappeared into the crowd with her.

"The HELL," Skeeter said, sitting up straighter. "The hell oh no he just didn't. He just scored on girl accessories, the world as I knew it is coming to an end."

"I didn't know Lambchop actually liked girls," Ed said, groping for his own beer. "I mean, well, you know what I mean, he's sort of...well he doesn't come off very...guy like. Maybe girls like guys who are more like themselves? Fuck, I don't think I'll ever get laid if that's how it works."

"Why has he been keeping this hidden talent from me?" Skeeter wailed. "Does that girl have a friend or a sister? The HELL, I need him to take me shopping!"

Ed settled back against the bar having retrieved his beer and took a big swallow. He surveyed the crowd himself. Why was he not interested. He got looks, he was sure if he set his mind to it he could have a girl or two or three, maybe enough to share with Skeeter who never got looks just wrinkled noses.

"Hey, you're famous, right? Do something impressive and get us some girls, I like girls," Skeeter sighed.

"I'm only famous around military bases," Ed sighed. "I grew out of my baby face and no one recognizes me anymore; just as well. I don't know, this all seems kind of superficial, doesn't it?"

"Oh you're goooood," Skeeter said, "that sensitive guy stuff is so smooth. Let's find a girl with a chest full of chest to try it out on," and he looked around.

"No, I mean it," Ed said, depositing his empty mug on the counter and waving at the bartender. "If I'm going to get intimate with someone, don't you think at least you should have some background with them? Ok sure, sex is supposedly all that, but in the long run, what do you have to show for it afterwards?"

"You know, a ham sandwich is all that and what do you have to show for it after you've eaten it," Skeeter said. "Don't get all...metaphorical or whatever on me, just drink and help me score a date. Skeeterville is a lonely place to be after dark."

Skeeter leaned far over on his barstool and waved at a couple of passing girls.

"Hey, HEY, look, you know this guy? He's famous! He was an alchemist, Fullbelt or something," and Skeeter grinned and jerked his thumb back at Ed.

The first girl wrinkled her nose and the second one said: "So what?" And they didn't pause in their walk down the bar.

"But he's famous," Skeeter lamented.

"Is that so," said another girl making the same walk, she stopped to survey the both of them frankly. "It was the Fullmetal Alchemist, actually. He was was a figure the state exploited to help pacify the people during the great fascist period after the Ishval war. He was a panacea to keep the masses from rising up against their oppressors."

"Oh yeah," Skeeter said, scratching his head. "So, what is the date potential of that, on the off chance you know, that doesn't mean anything to me?"

She rolled her eyes and kept going her way.

Ed stopped with his beer halfway to his lips. Skeeter looked at him and Ed shrugged.

He wondered what Roy would have to say to that. Probably quite a lot, actually. He had once said things very loudly and in a very heated way in a hearing Ed had attended after Ishval. He'd only gotten loud and heated after Ed had been mentioned in a less than favorable light. Ed kinda wished Roy were here now.

"Not how I remember it, but you know kids these days. See why I don't throw the famous card around?" he said and then continued his beer mug to his lips.

The girl came back then and Skeeter perked up considerably and smiled.

"Besides, wasn't he a midget?" she asked then shrieked as Ed spit beer all over her.


	2. Chapter 2

"What am I suppose to bring?" Ed asked the receiver, standing in the tiny square that served as his kitchen in his home. "I can't really cook anything, it would be cold before I got there and the bastard has tastes in wine I can't begin to figure out. If I try to bring candy well we know where that leads and flowers are, well ok I don't want to say girly, but I'm on a bike, how long do you think they'd last?"

"Just bring yourself," Al said, voice scratchy over the phone lines. "If you really feel the need to bring something for the table, stop when you get in Central and get some cheese or something munchy like that. We always need food after the food when we're sitting around digesting."

"But I never bring anything," Ed whined, "and I really want to contribute this time. After all, this is _family_ and I want to do something nice for the family." He sighed and opened his small ice box again as if something edible had magically appeared in the last five minutes or so he had checked it. "I don't like being the one everyone tells 'no it's ok, we'll take care of it'. I want to be one of the dependable family members, like you."

"I just told you, bring cheese," Al said. "Look, get some good cheese, some crackers and some of that tomato relish, we all love that."

"I guess," Ed sighed and scratched at his butt. "I don't know, I just feel like you always give me the easy crap. You're bringing like a standing rib roast or something, aren't you? You and Roy always have the good stuff and I just bring the crap."

"I'm bringing Sally," Al said suddenly. "I know I've mentioned her a few times, but we've started to date a lot more and well, I want you to meet her."

Sally had been the person Al had mentioned quite a few times the last time Ed visited. Ed didn't know what to make of this 'Sally', and he didn't meet her, so eventually he'd dismissed her from his mind, but not so it seemed with Alphonse.

"Oh, oh yeah?" Ed said, sucking on his bottom lip, "so you think she wants to come here and meet us? I mean you know, I do remember you saying her name a few times when I was there but I didn't meet her or nothing, so why now? I mean, you know I mean this is a holiday, it's like the family, I mean it's not that I care if she comes, maybe you should ask the General."

"The General seemed delighted at the idea," Al said, sounding wry. "Just don't stress out over the food or the company and bring whatever you feel is best. I have to go now, I'll see you in two weeks."

"Okok," Ed sighed. "See you then."

And he hung up.

**

Skeeter stood back, looking at a large hand draw schematic; Lambchop stood beside him, tilting his head back and forth. Beyond them Ed stood grinning; an array tapped to the side of what use to be a rusted old car.

"Well," Ed said, "what do you think? I think it has the intimidation factor all wrapped up. Plus, look at this added measure of defense, it will keep the foot troops away. I like to think of it as not just body armor but a rolling arsenal." Ed put his hands on his hips, looking very pleased with himself. "I think any soldier driving this would be _proud_ to be a representative of the Amesterian army. I think this is what they should have their pictures taken with to send home to mom. Genius boys, we are sheer genius," Ed then took his hands from his hips, clapped and rubbed them together. "I think they aren't making these challenges hard enough."

"As provocative and innovative and dynamic as this is...," Lambchop started.

"It looks nothing like the drawing," Skeeter finished.

Lambchop held his hands up, 'framed' the car between them and squinted one eye.

"Still, there is something to be said for the ambient vibrations I'm feeling off the piece; almost like some form of spike-period metal impressionism," Lambchop said.

"It looks like a demented metal porcupine that is going to jump out of the photo and eat your mama after you send it to her," Skeeter snorted.

"First off," Ed said, baring his teeth, "a porcupine was _not_ my inspiration; it was more suppose to resemble a dragon," he finished on a mumble. "But never mind that, we want the enemy to know we mean business! We're here to kick some ass! We're riders at the gates of dawn and we take no prisoners," Ed waved his hand around. "Go on, tell me one design flaw, I dare you!"

"Well," Lambchop said, clasping his hands behind his back, "I think the wheel basin isn't wide enough and one good ding to any of those delicious spikes might make them bend in on the wheel itself."

"Then flat tire, you're out of the ballgame," Skeeter said, "and headlights, where did the headlights go, instead we got these eyeball/shield/heavy lidded things here that are obstructing the headlights. So those got to go."

"It looks back heavy, like the dragon has been eating to many knights and hasn't been out getting his exercise. Like he's been lying around the den just expanding," Lambchop said, spreading his hands in front of his stomach. "I think it needs more abs than bottom."

"I vote we make it look like the drawing, what do you say? Lamby, let's have one of those democratic things where everyone has a say. I know Dictator Elric doesn't like them, but unless we start our own revolution, nothing is gonna happen. So a show of hands; who thinks it should look like the drawing we made that it's suppose to look like?"

Two hands went into the air, and neither of them were metal.

Ed marched around the car, snatched the drawing out of Skeeter's hand and looked at it. Then he marched over to the drafting table to one side, picked up a pencil, slapped the drawing down on it and went to work. About five minutes later he picked the drawing up, brought it back to Skeeter and bared his bottom teeth like a bulldog.

"Ok, so you have proven you can draw in the spikes," Skeeter said, taking the schematic back, "but in the long run you have to ask yourself, are spikes really the way to go on big rolling things? I mean you could accidentally stick you own guys."

"I know how much you want the spikes," Lambchop said soothingly, "and if it were up to me, there would be spikes and spikes on top of spikes all to make you happy. But we can't just make you happy boss, as much as we'd love to, we have to make a bunch of fuddy duddy, practical military guys happy so they will give us money and we can use it to go out and drink beer together. So think of this as one for the team, what do you say?"

"I don't see how I can work like this," Ed huffed, "where is the _challenge_ in all of this? So you think they just want a big, metal box?"

Skeeter and Lambchop nodded.

"Heavy, but light, able to take a large gun round at close range?" Skeeter ventured. "I mean that has got to mean we have to rearrange some molecules inside the metal, that's a challenge, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Ed sighed, folding his arms.

"No one appreciates your genius...," Lambchop started.

"Like you do," Skeeter added, then shut up at Lambchop's look.

"Like _we_ do. How many other firms can claim alchemic refinement of such a high standard? I will tell you, none. I think it's the battles we choose, let them have their box, I'm sure there will be something you can really non-conform on further down the line."

"Ok then," Ed grumped, "but when it comes time to non-conform you better be ready to non-conform right along with me; and I don't do things by halves."

Lambchop saluted and elbowed Skeeter until he saluted to; when Ed turned away Skeeter dropped his salute and wrinkled his nose at Lambchop.

"You've got him spoiled rotten," the red-head said.

**

He sat at the check-out counter of the hardware store he lived above on a barstool with a plate of dinner in front of him. Next to his sat Mr. Galloway and together they watched the tiny flickering screen of the equally tiny black and white television that rested on the third barstool. Ed's barstool was kind of rickety and Mr. Galloway's barstool had a crack in it that almost split it in half. The TV got the good barstool, because neither of them wanted the TV to topple off and hit the floor.

Ed stirred his peas in to his potatoes and contemplated gnawing on the already gnawed pork chop bone resting to the side of his plate. The Galloway's had a grown son, living with his wife off in some city that was not here and in order to avoid the 'empty nest syndrome' while they awaited grandchildren, they had taken to feeding Ed at least one hot, home cooked meal a week. In payment for this kindness, Ed would sit and watch the evening news or some similarly boring monotoned television show with Mr. Galloway while Mrs. Galloway puttered around in the kitchen attached to the back of the shop.

"How's that fancy science job treating you?" Mr. Galloway said. "Are they paying you enough? You let me know if that heater doesn't work up there right in the winter. You going to visit you brother soon? I noticed your motorcycle is leaking oil, you can get a bottle off the shelf and pay me when you get paid. You still going out with your friends? You met a girl yet?"

"Job is fine, pay is decent," Ed said between bites. "Heater worked fine last winter, going to Central to see Al in two weeks. Motorcycle needs a tune up, I can pay when I get the oil. Going out with them on Saturday, nope ain't met a girl yet," Ed said, almost leaning down to lick the plate clean.

"When you met a girl you can bring her by and Cleo will make pie; you hear that Cleo?" Mr. Galloway called toward the back loudly, "When Ed brings over his girl you gonna make pie?"

"Ed's got a girl now?" Mrs. Galloway called louder from the back, "You thinks she's an apple or cherry girl, Ed?"

"I don't have one yet," Ed half yelled back to her, "He's getting ahead of himself."

"Well when you get one, you bring her by, I'll make pie," Mrs. Galloway assured him, half drowning out the television in the process.

"OK," Ed bellowed back.

Not that it would be easy. It seemed every single, eligible female had been in the bar on the night he'd spit beer all over some pretty young thing, _(not like she didn't have it coming after the 'midget' remark)_ , and he seemed to be on the singles dating black list. Not that Skeeter and Lambchop didn't give it their all. For each girl they dated, there was a sister or a cousin or a hard up friend who just might date Ed, beer spraying and all, but it never went any further than the next bar stool over. His companions were constantly confounded in his continual 'aloneness' and didn't get it when he jokingly referred to himself as having Havocitis.

It did sort of irritate him though. How Skeeter, 'man with the charisma of a light switch', and Lambchop, 'the man every girl wanted to be', seemed to have a steady stream of never ending prior engagements that had feminine sounding names. Sure, it didn't seem to ever go anywhere, but they did go somewhere, usually in the company of a girl and Ed would wind up alone _(and sometimes stuck with the tab)_. He did sort of wonder what was wrong with him. He did sort of wonder why no one kept his attention any longer than it took to drink a couple of fruity drinks with umbrella, retire to the bathroom to freshen their make-up, then suddenly remember a pressing appointment.

"You going to Central for the holiday then," Mr. Galloway said, cutting through his musings. "Staying with that General again? Is he one of your relatives?"

"Uh, yeah," Ed said, gathering up Mr. Galloway and his own dirty dishes to carry back to Mrs. Galloway in the kitchen, "you could say that, but really, he's more like my keeper."

"Everybody needs somebody," Mr. Galloway said behind him as he headed off to the back of the shop.

Ed didn't dispute the saying, he just didn't know how to put it into practical use.

Mrs. Galloway kissed his cheek as he set the dishes in the sink and he had to remember to tell this to Skeeter and Lambchop just to prove he was getting some action on his own.

**

The 'research project' was underneath a tarp. It had not been transmuted into the promised armored box of the schematics. Ed argued, and perhaps rightfully so, that they should have a later model car to try the arrays on, perhaps one similar to a car someone in the military would be driving. It was hard to argue with that logic, and until the requisition request was approved or denied, the 'demented porcupine dragon' was save beneath a tarp. To fill in the time while the wheels of financial bureaucracy turned, they sat around doing crosswords, playing cards or fiddling with things they shouldn't out in the bay area, _(with the door up)_. Skeeter had found an old break room table from somewhere, complete with it's chairs and they'd set themselves up a nice little corner of the warehouse. They discussed, briefly, transmuting some old packing crates into a bar, but what would be the point of a bar without alcohol, so the crates sat unmolested where they'd been left.

Lambchop had just won the pot _again_ in a free-for-all style poker game, _(they made Ed roll his sleeves up and keep his hands on the tables at all times so no transmuted cards mysteriously made it into the deck again)_ when the door at the other end of the warehouse opened up and John Collins, the boss of their boss, _(Ed)_ , came through followed by a couple of other men all decked out in blue.

"We're here to see the progress, boys," Collins barked as they started across the warehouse floor and the three poker players at the table shoved the cards under the altered, erased and much argued about schematic. When the got closer the side of Ed's mouth went up into a half smirk and Collins stopped a few feet away.

"It's the inspection team from Central," Collins supplied needlessly, gesturing back to the army uniforms behind him, "they're here to take a look at the light armament project."

"General Mustang, good to see you," Ed said smoothly and the man he addressed returned his smirk.

"Edward," General Mustang said back, silkier than any smooth Ed could manage, "this is General Tenhouse and Brigadier General Langendonk, we were in the area and though we'd drop by. You'll remember Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist?"

The other two officers nodded, came forward to shake Ed's hand. Ed, not to be outdone, turned and looked at his own crew and decided to go with Lambchop first, because at least he _did_ know part of Lambchop's real name.

"This is Lambert...uh...," Ed started, but Lambchop jumped to his rescue.

"Lambert Hastings, and it's an honor gentlemen, a true honor to be doing our part for the betterment of men in cars that are likely to be shot at for this great country of ours," and he bounced forward and did a round of hand shaking himself.

"This is Skeeter," Ed started again, sort of slurring over the name, just in case he got it right somehow.

"Skeeter," Skeeter nodded. "Just Skeeter, or the Skeedman, sometimes I get that, or I think the ladies up in the secretarial pool call me Skeeter-motion, but whatever Lamby just said, double goes for me," and he moved forward to shake a bunch of hands, including Ed's when he moved back in line.

"These are my assistants," Ed said wryly. He would have to speak to Skeeter about his introduction speech. About dropping the Skeeter-motion part. It just didn't seem to lend itself to the whole flow of the speech and Ed kept casting nervous glances at General Tenhouse, who was female and wondering if civilians could be court-marshaled.

"General, I leave them in your capable hands," Collins said to Roy, then saluted as of old and marched stiff back from the warehouse, closing the door behind him.

"Well Edward," General Mustang said, "Do you have something to show us?"

"I do," Ed said, "but you're not going to like it. I was trying to be creative and you know, think outside the box, but no one here appreciates my efforts." Ed looked at Skeeter and Lambchop then.

"It's it large and did you make it look like a dragon or a gargoyle?" Roy said, clasping his hands behind his back and glancing at the other two officers with him.

"We're waiting for a more appropriate vehicle to do our tests on, you know, one you might actually happen to be riding in when the insurgents come bursting out of the hovels along the street of your newly decimated but claimed territory with guns ablazing. That is, you know, if you're actually in the vehicle and not hanging out the side waving to all the newly subjugated, I mean liberated civilians." Ed drawled.

"The rumors weren't unfounded," General Tenhouse said to General Mustang and Brigadier General Langedonk nodded agreement. There was a brief General pity-party for General Mustang having to put with Ed all those years and Ed's nostrils flared and Lambchop announced loudly and nervously how he'd just _love_ to go hand-squeeze everyone some fresh lemonade and Skeeter knew how to tap dance, wasn't that amazing? But no one was more amazed than Skeeter who immediately tried out the new talent thrust upon him and then while everyone was gawking at him in amazement General Mustang accidentally backed into the tarp covered research project, got stuck and they all escorted him down to the infirmary.

"I told you that thing would take out our own guys," Skeeter said in the hallway while they hovered by the infirmary door and Ed stomped Skeeter's left instep with his own left foot and then Skeeter had to go into the infirmary, too.

**

He felt like he was twelve again. Roy was escorted back to the hotel he was staying at by the two officers with him, but Ed was summoned with a terse note and look from John Collins and now he stood there in the hotel room twisting his fingers.

Hell of a way to show off his new job, huh?

"It's alright Ed, calm down," Roy said sitting on the edge of the bed in his shirt and pants. "It was only three stitches."

Ed groaned and lay his head back, staggered across the hotel room and flopped into one of the chairs by the window.

"Hi Roy, nice to see you! It's been a while, here let me put a HOLE IN YOUR BACK," Ed scrubbed at his face with his hands.

"That was an accident," Roy said waving it off, "and it's good to see you, too. I have you here under the pretense of you giving me a more detailed accounting of your progress, but see how good I am to you? You can just hang around here and talk to me and slack," Roy smiled. "John Collins has nothing but great things to say about you. He's very impressed with your work. He thinks you have some potential to climb the corporate ladder there as it where."

"How, but putting holes in everyone's back if they get in my way?" Ed grumbled from his slouch in the chair. "I can't believe this, I finally get you all the way out here and injure you. Al's going to yell at me, he is. He tells me all the time to be careful with my artistic expressions, but do I ever listen? No. Al knows me, he knows I'm into spikes, I bet he knew this would happen one day."

"How will Al ever know if you don't tell him? This could be our little secret. Now quit obsessing over it so much. I'd like to see your place and I'd like to visit your bar, are you free tonight?" Roy asked.

"Yeah!" Ed said, brightening up immediately, sitting forward in his chair. "Sure, anytime is good, you just tell me. It's all on me, too. I think you'll like the bar, and my place is small but it's in a really neat part of town. So you know, you rest up here a bit and then we can go out. Did you bring civvies? That's great," Ed was smiling.

Roy liked it best when Ed smiled.

**

Roy met Ed later, outside of the hotel. Ed pulled up and got out of a car so tiny it didn't really seem to need four wheels.

"You got a car?" Roy gaped in astonishment. "You didn't tell me you had a car."

"I don't," Ed said, shrugging, "I borrowed this one. I mean, you got stitches in your back and I figured that maybe you shouldn't ride the bike. So Lambchop loaned me his car," Ed turned and looked at it, rubbed the back of his neck, then looked at Roy. "Just remember, this isn't my car, ok? The interior is some sort of neon green and it smells really...floral inside. Never mind, let's go," Ed opened the passenger side door for him.

The first stop was the curb outside a small hardware store that was the bottom level of a three story building. It was quaint, tiny, cheerful and obviously family run. Rows of fresh herb plants dotted two window boxes hanging right under the big window that had Galloway Hardware painted on it in gold edged black letters. Ed got out and stepped up onto the curb and Roy got out, too.

"Ok, this is where I live. There is a walk up on the side of the building or we can go in and through the back to the stairs back there. I like going in when they are open and using the interior stairs," Ed led the way, pushing into the shop and making the small bells on the door chime.

Roy paused a moment in the doorway, surveying the street. It seemed to be full of similar buildings. A tiny, peaceful place sitting at the edge of a larger urban area. Quite, trendy, not very much how he imagined a neighborhood that contained Ed, but he was glad, he was very glad. Because it might not be what he imagined for Ed, but it was everything he had hoped for Ed. It seemed very nice. He turned to go in and Ed beckoned to him from the front counter, standing with an older man.

"Mr. Galloway, this is General Mustang," Ed said, and the way he said it made Roy feel many things at once. He came over, extending his hand.

The two men shook hands, exchanged pleasantries and Ed stood by just smiling the way Roy liked to see him smile. It was a real smile, something he didn't see often on Ed's face when he was a child or in those turbulent years of young adulthood. It was a smile that said Ed was finding his existence enjoyable now and not a confusing and terrible place to be. It was the smile that said things were finally working out.

"It's very nice to meet you," Mr. Galloway was saying, "Ed says good things about you, I know he's happy you're here."

"I am very happy to be here," Roy returned and tried to catch Ed's eye but Ed was to busy blushing and finding packets of seeds interesting. "I'm only in town for a very short stay, but I am glad to know he's living in such a nice neighborhood and has a good landlord."

"Well the missus misses our boy, you know. Ed is very good to put up with the mothering," Mr. Galloway said. "He's a good kid to eat dinner with us some nights so the missus still has someone other than me to cook for."

"I am very sure that it's not any better of Ed than it is Ed loves home cooked foods," the general said with a bow of his head, "he's like a cat in that fashion, you might never be rid of him."

"He's always welcome here," the old man said, then they said their goodbyes and Ed hurried up the stairs in front of Roy to the second floor and keyed into an apartment that was the front half of the building. It wasn't very wide, but it was full of light from the windows. It was laid out almost galley style. They walked into a small living room area that had a couch and a coffee table of sorts. To the right was a tiny kitchen, with only a stove and an icebox and a bit of counter space with a stool pushed under it. The the left was small room that might be the bathroom and further down was a closed door that Roy guessed was Ed's bedroom. There also seemed to be one small closet and a bookshelf that held both books and a radio. It wasn't neat but it wasn't as scattered and cluttered as Roy thought it might be. Ed stood surveying his kingdom, then glanced at Roy.

"Yeah, it's really small, but you know? I like it. There isn't a lot of space to have to clean up and that suits me just fine and it's just me you know and a lot of times I'm downstairs in the evening with Mr. and Mrs. Galloway or I'm out with Skeeter and Lambchop, so I'm not here a lot, so it works out," Ed turned and nodded at the windows. "Besides I have a _killer_ view. Sometimes I just lay over there on the couch and watch the outside. I really like it here," he finished on a softer note. "It's funny, because I never even thought about it until I moved here, I mean where I would live, what I would want to live around."

The general walked over, knelled on the couch and folded his arms along the back. Peering out of the window and down to the street, after a moment Ed took up a similar position beside him. For long moments they both just watched the pedestrian traffic on the street below. Ed rested his chin on his folded arms.

"It's nice here," Roy said finally. "I think this area has a lot of potential, so it's probably good you got in when you did."

"You think so?" Ed said, "I sorta thought maybe I'd buy a house around here. See? I'm a real estate genius without even trying hard."

"I'm sure the market trembles when you say those words," Roy said, pushing up. "Let's go eat."

**

Ed had never stood at the hostess stand to sit in the restaurant area of the bar before. He kept glancing around, afraid some regular he knew from the bar part was going to see him and start making fun of him. It seemed there were two groups who came here. The Drinkers and The Eaters, and never the twain did they meet. The Drinkers often made fun of the asses of The Eaters, and The Eaters made fun of The Drinkers lack of brain cells.

It was never a good mix when The Drinkers encountered The Eaters after having drank to much of said drink and The Eaters had eaten to much of said eats. Never, never pretty.

"So what do you recommend here?" Roy said as they waited, not noticing Ed's predicament. "Do they have good steaks?"

"To be honest," Ed said, trying to use Roy as a buffer between the hostess stand and the bar, "I've only eaten to bar food. You know, chili cheese fries, mini hamburgers, nachos...I've never been in this side before." Ed folded his arms and scooted a little to the left.

Roy glanced over his shoulder, then back at Ed who seemed to be doing a subtle dance that involved scooting back and forth whenever someone came in the door and headed for the bar.

"Do you see someone in the bar you don't want to see you?" Roy asked, folding his own arms.

"Well, no," Ed admitted, "I just don't want any of them to see me eating here," he confided.

"Why?" Roy said, "What the problem with eating here? The food isn't any good?"

"No, I'm sure it's fine," Ed said, ducking his head a little and peering around Roy's arm, "it's just like heresy or something to drink _and_ eat here, and no, I've never figured it out myself. I wish they'd seat us already, this is getting nerve wracking," Ed complained.

Dear god, Edward caring about what other people thought. Even if it was just bar buddies, he was still thinking, considering his actions and the consequences of them. He was _interacting with other people_ , and for that, Roy found he was more grateful than anything he could possibly imagine. Ed was alright, Ed was whole. He allowed himself to be used as a shield until they were shown to a booth in the back.

**

"Is that the same General you'll be going up to see next week when we got time off?" Skeeter said, standing beside Ed in front of the 'General Slaying Dragon' whom Ed had decided to transmute back into a regular car. They had tried to get the tarp off, but the dragon's spikes held it first and it was decided to just add it into the transmutation.

"Maybe you can make it like the upholstery," Lambchop said. "Only it's that ugly shade of 'hole in the roof' blue."

"Like you have any taste in upholstery," Ed snorted. "It was great you lent me the car, but it was like riding around in a pickle barrel. What is with the neon green?"

"Why should my car look like everyone else's car? Besides, if I have an accident when the use the jaws of life to get me out I will be very visible in the interior of my car. They won't have to dig around for me," Lambchop said.

Ed and Skeeter made some affirmative grunting noises because they supposed they couldn't dispute that.

"So where are you going on holiday?" Ed asked Skeeter, stalling to give the General Slaying Dragon car a bit more time in existence. "Going to see your family?"

"Like I got a choice, tell him Lambchop, tell him of my personal hell," Skeeter said.

"He has a darling mother and two sisters and if he doesn't show up they'll come get him," Lambchop said and nodded.

"Well, then what about you, what are you doing for the holiday?" Ed asked, "You got a darling mother and two sisters at home, too?"

"Actually," Skeeter said, "he's got a mother that would make a drill sergeant proud and _five_ sisters, and oh, he's the baby."

"We know all your plans, though, boss," Lambchop said. "You get to see your little brother, you get to meet his girl and really, you shouldn't mope or curl up your lip like you do when you talk to us about her. And you get to see the General again, although he was just here. You must really like him, you get all puffy when he's around."

"Yeah, and you know, Lambchop said I could tap dance, I never said I could tap dance, and you didn't have to get all embarrassed and slap me on the back all those times," Skeeter said, then turned his best hang dog expression on Lambchop. "My spine still hurts and at night, if you're really, really quiet? You can hear it rattling."

"Puffy? What the fuck are you talking about? What is 'puffy' anyways?" Ed walked slowly around his artistic masterpiece, pre-mourning it's passing. "Puffy sounds like something a girl names a cat."

"My kitty's name is Montombo," Lambchop said, grinning and gazing off at nothing apparently. "He's so big and forceful. He keeps the roaches living in pantry in sheer terror. What I mean by puffy, boss," he explained patiently, "is that you...puff up when he is around. You hold your head up, you stick your chest out, you shove us around and show him that you're the alpha male! I think it's cute."

"I don't! You pounded my back with automail and made me make coffee like I know how to make coffee. It's like you didn't want the Skeeter-miser to talk to the big-wigs or something. Especially that chick General, she was hot."

Ed and Lambchop shared a look, then Lambchop made a few shooing motions at the General Slaying Dragon and Ed sighed and went over to give his creation one last, careful pat.

Skeeter and Lambchop stood beside him, heads bowed in respect, hands clasped before them in placation.

"It was...a wonderful piece of equipment, years before it's time," Ed said.

"Amen," Skeeter and Lambchop said as one.

"I don't think we got to explore it's full potential, even though it punctured a General, I feel it could have been so much more," Ed intoned gravely.

"It's going off to the great car lot in the sky," Lambchop commiserated.

"I don't know about that, it drew blood, maybe it's the car lot in the _other_ place," Skeeter said and Lambchop shushed him.

"At any rate," Ed said loudly, "there will never be another war machine like it," and he clapped his hands in that dramatic pause, then carefully tucked them between the spikes and touched the hood and transmuted the General Slaying Dragon back into the box it originally was.

**

Nothing broke up the monotony of work like a good mid-week holiday. With 4 days off Ed took the road on his bike and made his way to the city of Central, _(where he'd once resided)_ , to visit the General, _(with whom he'd resided)_ , and eat and drink and other sort of debauchery that came with several days off in a row, _(and in the presence of his younger brother)_.

The road was a good place to think, and true, it didn't take long to get from where he was to where he had been, but it gave a man time to think.

He'd come to the general's house some years ago now in shambles. It really wasn't Roy's place or duty to try to reconstruct the detestation he has made of himself, but he had, and in the reclamation project fixed himself a place forever in Ed's life.

Ed wondered when it just became accepted between Al and himself that Roy fit into their family. That Roy was actually considered family, because he was, without doubt. Holidays and outings, decisions and confidences were all made now with this new addition in mind. It had become natural to include Roy in thoughts of Al and Winry and Pinako; and Roy reciprocated as if they'd been family all along, without missing a beat; without acknowledging that the beginnings of what made this a family were shady at best, manipulative at worst.

They had all survived, forgotten and forgiven.

And now it was what it was, and it was comfortable and familiar and just that much more of not being alone. Ed had eventually become use to the feeling this gave him and been able to banish the uncomfortable feelings it left him.

It would be good to be with his family for the holiday.

**

Ed managed to park the bike and then got off and stood there hacking. How many fucking bugs had he swallowed? It was a wonder he'd be hungry for any kind of dinner at all. He reminded himself that well, bugs _were_ protein and therefore harmless. He sure hoped he didn't have any legs sticking out from between his teeth when Al and his girlfriend showed up. Nice first impression; this is my brother Ed, he eats bugs. He spit a few times on the general's lawn and flipped the outer lens of his goggles up and looked around.

He took a few moments to unbuckle his bag from the back of his bike and decided to wheel the bike closer to the house. As he was pushing it up the walk, the front door opened and the general looked out at him.

"You look like a gangster," the man said as a way of greeting.

Ed took a moment to look down at himself. Was there any creative statement he made in his life that wouldn't get some sort of derisive comment? So he had on his big boots that came up to his knee, that was for safety. So was the long, black, oiled duster. If he fell off the bike on his right shoulder, well what would it matter? But what if he fell off the bike in his _left_ shoulder? The duster could help him keep what little skin he had left. The goggles kept the bugs that found a home in his teeth out of his eyes and the helmet was law.

He set his bike over on it's kickstand beside the front steps and gave a good snort, in case a bug had gotten up there too, and scowled.

"Yeah, damn glad to see you, too," Ed grumped.

"You should really get a car," Roy said, stepping back to let Ed in, "that would really be the safest thing by far."

"Fuck, will you lay off, I just go here," Ed said, yanking on the chin strap to get his helmet off. "You're like a fucking mother hen. I'll get a car when I decide I look cooler in a car than on a bike, ok?" And Ed almost bared his teeth.

Roy grinned, then held up his hands. "Truce," he said and then clapped Ed on the back as he walked by, "I'm glad you're here. Al's train will be in around 6 tonight, you can borrow my car to go pick him up. You want to take a shower before hand? Want something to drink?"

"Yes and yes," Ed said, shrugging off the duster and heading for the closet. "You're going to let me drive your car? You're trying to get me hooked on cars, I know you. But you took away my really cool car with all the spikes, I think I'm traumatized. See? All your car pushing ways have backfired on you. But that's ok, I promise not to scare you this time. Is Al and his girlfriend staying in that hotel down on the square? I have dibs on the couch you know."

"Yes, I booked them in myself. You can shuttle them back and forth as well," Roy said, appearing with a couple of bottles of beer and nodding toward the living room. "Come tell me what's been going on in the entire week I haven't seen you."

**

Roy sat on a bench in the train station at five past six and watched Ed pace the platform in front of him.

Ed has brushed his teeth three times and had Roy inspect them for bug parts. He'd borrowed cologne, he's messed with his hair, he'd straightened his collar and made Roy help him with his cuffs.

Ed was making a sincere effort to impress his brother's girlfriend. It was another step, no hell it was a leap, in the right direction. It was another brick in the foundation that Ed had laid for his new life. Roy was aware where others were not of what an advancement this was in the psyche of Edward Elric.

Ed turned on him suddenly.

"Do you think she'll like me?" he said, tugging at his cuffs again. "I really owe this to Al not to fuck it up, FUCK, help me remember not to say fuck so much, ok? I don't know why I didn't meet her the last time I was down at Al's place. GAH, this is fucking nerve wrecking, it's like I'm waiting to meet the grim reaper or something. That is fucked up, I shouldn't' feel like that, I mean it's just a girl, no wait, it's a girl that Al likes and you know, I _know_ how I use to act and maybe that is why Al didn't' let me meet her that last time, he thinks I'll be a fuck-up again. But I won't, I'm past that. I mean if Al likes this girl, then there must be something about her to like, because Al is an excellent judge of character and you know, I'm not anything like Al and I don't know a nice girl from a swamp witch; but _you_ do, so you have to let me know if I'm really suppose to like this girl or try to break the spell. NO FUCK, listen to me, this isn't about me, it's about Al, why the fuck am I so nervous, I mean it's just a _girl_ , not the forefather of alchemy or anything," Ed scrubbed at his face. "Don't let me fuck this up," he hissed at Roy, "I'll beat your ass if you do."

Roy just felt himself smile and be happy that Ed, no matter how hard he tried, was a sane adult now.

**

She looked like a china doll with strawberry curls. Ed found it hard to believe a girl could look so pretty and so breakable at the same time.

"I'm afraid to shake her hand, I might hurt her," Ed squeaked at Roy nudged him forward. Al saw them then, broke into a grin and waved, the china-doll girl beside him took his arm and smiled.

No one on the planet could be this simply lovely and breath.

"Brother," Al said happily, reaching with his free hand, and Ed didn't need prompting to take it. "I'm so glad you came down to meet us," Al's grin was infectious and Roy, standing just behind Ed couldn't help but answer it with his own. "You too, General," Al quickly added. Then he turned his head to smile at the girl beside him. "This is Sally Creel," he said meeting her eyes briefly, then he turned to look at Ed and Roy. "Sally, this is my brother, Edward, and that gentleman there is General Roy Mustang."

"I've heard so much about you," she said, then she too, held a hand out to Ed. Ed hesitated, Roy saw him shake the automail, but then he raised it and took her and in his gloved one, barely moving his fingers to formulate a handshake.

"I'm really glad to meet you," Ed said, "Al has told us all about you." Then he released her hand and stepped aside to let her shake Roy's. Roy smiled and took her hand, but he didn't fail to notice the look Al was giving Ed while Ed watched the girl and the general shake hands.

It had all been worth it.

**

After they got Al and Sally checked into the hotel, and Al and Sally freshened up a bit while Roy and Ed milled about in the lobby, they went to dinner.

Sally Creel was a school teacher. Sally Creel was active in the women's charitable organization in South City and volunteered her time with under privileged children. Sally Creel was a national champion archer, _(!)_ , Sally Creel liked fish and shrimp. Sally Creel liked cats.

It was a fucking match made in fucking heaven and Ed could say that because he only said it in his head.

Al seemed to think so, too. But after they learned about Sally Creel, Alphonse Edward began to brag about Edward Elric. His big brother was a state alchemist at twelve. His big brother was know as the 'Alchemist for the People'. His big brother did many heroic things before the age of sixteen. His big brother worked for a prestigious firm that was given many secret military contracts.

Oh, and by the way, this is the General, he's a General in the army.

Al's big brother sat working a napkin in his lap and looking like he wanted to crawl under the table.

Roy was terribly, terribly amused.

Sally Creel was terribly, terribly impressed. She asked all manner of questions, marked and intelligent and Ed found himself answering in thoughtful ways. Ed could see the attraction Al had, he could feel the attraction himself. There were girls out there that deserved Al and vice versa. It looked like Al had found one of them.

After dinner, Roy and Ed dropped Al and Sally off at their hotel and headed back to Roy's place. They came in, got ready for bed and Roy came in to sit with Ed a bit before they actually retired.

"You were quiet all the way back here," Roy said, "what's on your mind?"

"Not a lot, really," Ed said, flopping over on the couch, "just thinking about Al and Sally. She's a nice girl isn't she? I can tell Al really likes her. I can't imagine her pulling a compound bow though, she must be stronger than she looks," Ed sighed. "I wasn't sure how I'd feel? I mean, I remember what it was like before, with Al and his girlfriends. But this doesn't feel like that," Ed covered his eyes for a moment, then gave a short laugh. "I guess I'm happier about that than anything else. I think I feel...hopeful? Maybe that's it, hopeful for Al and what this might be for him. You know, that happily ever after crap. Yeah, that's what I feel, hopeful."

Roy got up then, laid his hand on top of Ed's head for a moment in passing.

"Goodnight, Edward," he said, then withdrew his hand and went down the hall to his bedroom and Ed sat up to watch him go.  



	3. Chapter 3

Ed and the general had breakfast alone. The plan was to meet up in the afternoon and show Sally the sights of Central, then have lunch somewhere, then more walking around and looking at tall buildings then the general said they were going to meet someone for dinner.

"Who are we meeting?" Ed inquired, digging his clothes out of his bag. "I don't get why you're being all mysterious about it? Is it another General?" Ed grinned and carried his clothes into the bathroom. "Are you feeling left out and want to show off some of your General friends?

"No, it's not another General," Roy said from the recesses of his bedroom where he was getting ready for the day's outing. "Just someone I want you to meet. Where should we take Sally? Do you think she'd like the museum?"

"It's a given," Ed said, throwing his wrinkled clothes up over the shower rod. He'd take a nice hot shower, get his clothes all soaked with steam, then clap and dry and iron them in one feel swoop. If he were to ever decide to go into business for himself he'd make one hell of a dry cleaner. "Everybody who comes to gawk at Central has to go to the museum. And maybe that botanical garden. Oh, we should take her by headquarters, that's pretty impressive. Oh, I know, we should take her to library."

"Edward Elric, why are you still single? You know all the swinging places," Roy said. "The library is a no-go. We'd be forced to drag you out and then you'd be irritable the rest of the day."

"I would not. You know, you hold everything against me." Ed started up the shower than raised his voice to be heard. "I'm not that bad...anymore. I mean, I can't even get into the good branch now!"

"You know all you have to do is ask," Roy shouted back. "I'll check out any book you care to read."

"So, you really got me off the subject of the mystery dinner date tonight, come on, give me a hint. Is it someone I know? It's not Alex is it?" Ed shoved the curtain back and stepped into the tub.

"Would I do that to you?" Roy yelled back.

"Stranger things have been known to happen," Ed mumbled to himself and stuck his head under the stream of hot water.

**

It never ceased to amaze Roy how something Ed had seen himself a million times over was still fascinating. It's as if Ed had a thousand angles, and until he'd come at the same thing a thousand times he still found something new and interesting at every turn. Roy had been to the museum, wined, dined and danced in the museum during functions and driven by the museum for countless years. He thought the museum was dead boring and was doing a good job of being asleep on his feet. Ed and Al were taking turns elbowing him and prodding him along and he sort of hung back from their little group as not to be such a wet blanket. As for Al, he seemed to be living all the sights over anew and vicariously through Sally. Roy supposed that is what relationships did for a person; gave them a fresh perspective on things they'd seen a million times. He watched Ed read a plaque in front of a display that was a permanent fixture here and yet still seemed to find something to make him ponder it anew. It was enough to draw Roy over to read over his shoulder.

After a bit Ed hung back with him, walking at his side while Al pointed things out to Sally a little ways ahead of them. They didn't speak, there didn't seem to be much of a need. Roy would slow when Ed would, and stop and scrutinize any exhibit Ed seemed interested in looking for that thing he might have overlooked before. Once or twice he found he did question his memory of a section or two; he wasn't sure when the same old museum visit became fresh.

After the museum it was lunch on the veranda of an exclusive restaurant the stars and stripes Roy wore on his shoulders managed to get them into; and after that it was the botanical gardens. This seem like a good place to actually break off into couples, _(Roy looked at Ed and Ed looked at Roy when Al suggested it and they both quirked up the sides of their mouths,but then agreed)_ , so Al and Sally disappeared among the foliage and Ed and Roy found a nice little bench half hidden in some tall bushes to wait for them.

Roy crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap. Ed sat forward, arms resting along his legs as he bent over them, his hands clasped between his knees. They sat like that for a while in companionable silence, each thinking their own thoughts about the days events. Ed, as always, broke first.

"So you going to tell us about the mystery dinner person?" Ed turned his head and cocked his eyebrow at Roy.

"Oh, and ruin the surprise, no, I don't think I will," Roy said easily. "But, I see I have made the right decision on inviting this person," he gave Ed a smile that said more than it should.

"You are NOT trying to set me up," Ed said. "I don't need pity dates, I can get plenty of pity without you piling pity on top of it."

"No Edward, I can guarantee I'm not setting you up," Roy said enigmatically and swung his foot.

"Well...good," Ed said then chewed his lip. "So what's wrong with me that you wouldn't try to set me up?"

Roy reached up then and rubbed the bridge of his nose a moment. He then returned his hand to his lap and instead of swinging his foot, he just wiggled it back and forth a little.

"Do you want to talk about dating?" Roy ventured. "Personally Edward, I don't think I should be your romance counselor. If I remember correctly, not more than five seconds ago you didn't want me to set you up."

"I don't! And I don't need your stinking advice either," Ed snorted. "I just thought you know, if you had some observation you had already made you might want to tell me about it, but since you don't, I must be prime material as I expected. I guess I'm just to intimidating, maybe people think I'm to smart or you know, to virile or something. I'm not in a hurry, something will wander into the sights soon, I'm just waiting for the right one."

"That is what I like to hear," Roy said. "I've fixed enough of your life already, so if you need any fine tuning well I think you can handle that on your own."

Ed worked his jaw but didn't say anything. He never argued with the truth.

"Hey, do you remember you know, when all that started," Ed said, "when I wanted to be with you? You remember that?"

"I do," Roy said, tilting his head back to enjoy a sudden breeze, "why do you ask?"

"I don't know, maybe it's because I see couples springing up all around me," Ed sighed. "We should make one of those pacts, if I'm not married by thirty and you're still single and a billion years old, then I'll hook up with you. How about it?"

Roy gave a small laugh.

"Very well," the general said, sounding amused. "It's a deal."

Ed wondered why suddenly the intent stirred inside him to stay single for a while.

**

The guided tour of Central ended an hour or so before they were suppose to meet for dinner.

The hotel had a lovely atrium and coffee service, so they all sat around like civilized people for a bit. Then Sally commented on the gardens, _(more gardens!)_ , outside and the general graciously offered to escort her out there. So the two Elric brothers sat alone in the atrium, Al drinking coffee, Ed drinking cream and sugar and just using the coffee as a vehicle in which to do it.

  
"So who do you think Roy is going to spring on us a dinner? The current Fuhrer? I wouldn't put it past him. Just like him to keep us in the dark until the last possible second," Ed contemplated more sugar cubes.

"He won't budge an inch," Al agreed. "I drilled him about it earlier. He's being funny about it, I get the feeling it's not a military coup, more like a civilian, maybe that embarrasses him," Al shrugged.

"You mean he's got friends outside the military or ex-military?" Ed snorted. "Will wonders never cease? It's not like Roy to be interested in the private sector, I wonder what gives?"

"Well whatever the case, he seemed very reserved about it to begin with, but not now," Al sat his coffee cup on the table. "I wonder what he saw that changed his mind?"

"No telling," Ed said, sipped his coffee, then took the opportunity to add more cream. "I hear tale of you signing a contract extension? Is that a done deal or are you still sitting on it? More money, Al, make them give you more money. You know, you should stop renting down there and buy a house. You really seem to like it there, and it's obvious they like you being there. You know, you could make them buy you a house. Don't just put your name on the dotted line without a few caveats," Ed advised.

"They offered me a house," Al said, freshening his cup from the pot on the tray, "and they offered me more money, but you know, it's not really those options that are making me consider extending my contract."

"You like her that much?" Ed said quietly. "You really think she might be it?"

"Well if I sign an extension I'll have time to figure that out, won't I?" Al leaned back in his chair, held the cup under his bottom lip and blew gently across it's steaming surface. "And if it doesn't work out in the end, well at least I still have a job."

Ed sat his cup on the table, stood and stretched and walked to look out one of the large windows of the atrium. Everything Al said was true of course. And the culmination of human existance as to find one's mate, settled down, raise a family, right? Al was heading in all directions right, and Ed? Well, at least he was no longer trying to go down the drain.

For all that had past he had finally come to accept he _was_ a part of this human existence, and he too, should be following the path set by countless other humans before him. He had finally realized he didn't have to pick up where he left off; it was acceptable for him to move forward into this future that was suddenly bright and a little intimidating. But it was no longer lonely and terrifying; it was now something he looked forward to instead of something he tried desperately to backpedal from. Life just came at him and he'd learned to keep up.

He saw the general and Sally heading up the walk. They were talking and laughing and Ed found it comforting that Roy seemed to enjoy her company. Al certainly did and Ed battled his reservations and found that it wasn't so bad, this woman Al liked and might like for the rest of his life. He tried to imagine what being an uncle might be like. And for all of these things he imagined for Al, he never once imagined them for himself. He wondered why; but really this wasn't the time to contemplate it and he turned to watch Roy and Sally open the door from the outside and walk back into the veranda.

**

Dinner it turned out was at an even ritzier place than lunch. They were shown into a very lavish bar to wait on their table and Roy peered around, frowned, then left them to head back out to the lobby.

"The General is being stood up by his mystery guest," Ed grinned evilly. "That's what he gets for making mushrooms out of us."

"Brother, that's not very nice," Al chided mildly, the corner of his mouth twitching up.

"If feel under dressed," Sally lamented, smoothing at her skirt. "You didn't warn me we'd being going to such refined places," she chided Al in his turn.

"Roy does this crap all the time," Ed said, waving his hand. "Don't worry, you look great."

Ed noticed Al grinning at him ear to ear and sputtered, then decided to go and hunt Roy, and maybe gloat a little.

He found his way out of the candle lit, wood encrusted bar area and back into the main lobby. He glanced around and didn't see Roy readily. Maybe he was hiding in the can to avoid having to explain why whoever it was he wanted to rub in their faces hadn't shown up. Roy sure liked to show off his clout at times. Lunch with _this_ person, dinner with _that_ person. Roy was well respected and powerful, Ed got that already, Roy didn't have to keep preening.

He was about to go complain to Al that maybe Roy was standing _them_ up when he heard a familiar voice. Roy came from around the corner, where the check room was, on his arm was a woman. She was almost as tall as Roy, she had long dark hair and a dress that showed off her shoulders. She was looking at Roy as she walked beside him, holding his arm, she was smiling.

Roy was smiling back.

Roy was going to introduce them to a woman?

Ed wracked his brain, he wasn't aware of any new promotions that might make a woman high enough in the rankings for Roy to want to introduce them. And besides, whenever Roy introduce female officers they were in uniform and weren't hanging off his arm or laughing at his bad jokes. Roy turned and saw Ed, he continued smiling, continued leading the woman over to him. When they go to where Ed stood, looking puzzled, they stopped.

"Did I make you wait to long?" Roy questioned. "Our guest has finally arrived, late as usual," the woman on his arm made a little displeased noise and wrinkled her nose. "Let's go back into the bar and I'll make the introductions," Roy waved at Ed to proceed him.

Ed trotted before him and Al gave his brother a raised eyebrow. But Ed just shrugged, indicated behind him with a jerk of the head and then stood to Al's right, just behind his shoulder as Roy and the unknown woman approached.

"Here we are," Roy said. "Edward, Alphonse, Sally, I'd like you to meet Stella Cavanaugh. Stella, this Ed and Al, and Miss Sally Creel, Alphonse's girlfriend."

"I've heard all about you," Stella Cavanaugh said, and when Al reached to shake her hand she caught it and held it and grabbed his other one as well. "Roy tells me all sorts of wonderful things about your work in the south. He just goes on and on, I'm so happy to finally get to meet you."

"You catch me off-guard, Miss Cavanaugh, you've been a well guarded secret," Al said, but he was smiling. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to getting to know you over dinner. This is Sally," Al said, turning them both since Stella still held his hands.

"Nice to meet you," Sally smiled and Stella dropped Al's hands and took Sally's. "I'm in the same boat as Alphonse; but I've only just met his brother and the General yesterday."

"The pleasure is all mine," the woman named Stella said. "Your perfume is wonderful, will you share the brand and I'm so jealous of your beautiful curls; all my hair wants to do is hang, it wouldn't hold a curl to save my life!" The two women grinned at each other.

This was a date. The general had brought a date. He never brought dates. Ed had never met one of the general's dates before. Why the hell would he spring a date on them now of all times? Maybe he'd made this date forgetting that he already had the family date planned for the holiday, and so, not to look bad in front of his date he just played this along like he'd intended this the whole time.

"Edward Elric," someone said and shook him out of his meetings, and suddenly his hands were grabbed and he could feel the squeeze on the flesh one. "When Roy told me you would be here I couldn't wait to meet you," she said. "You don't know this, but you saved my brother's life in Liore, I've always wanted to thank you in person. Without you I would have no brother, no wonderful sister-in-law, no darling nephews. I am so honored to get to have dinner with you tonight. Truly, you have no idea how grateful my family is to you."

Ok, so she was a fan? Roy kept this secret because she was a fan? Roy could have just said: 'Oh by the way this girl I want to shag has this big hero worship thing for you, I'm bringing her along to dinner'. He would have been ok with that. Well maybe not. Maybe Roy thought it might make him feel awkward or something. But Ed had gotten use to his fame a long time ago. It fed into his ego and it was still nice to hear things like this, about what a great guy he was; who didn't like to hear things like that.

"Uh, glad I could help," he said. Even thought he'd gotten use to fame, he hadn't yet found a script that worked for him. He usually just ad-libbed his responses, like now, whenever someone gushed to his face.

"Stella, darling, Ed's head is big enough," Roy said, butting in, "and our table is ready."

Stella reluctantly released Ed's hands and took Roy's arm. She smiled up at Roy and he smiled down at her and bent his head and then...they kissed. They kissed right there in the bar where everyone could see them and Ed thought it funny that Roy was kissing one of his fans. Roy nodded to the waiter and then he and Stella, then Al and Sally and finally Ed and nobody followed him into the dining area.

Roy held Stella's chair, Al held Sally's and Ed did his own. They all sat down and Roy asked for a wine menu.

Ed flipped open the leather bound, gold embossed menu set on the plate in front of him. This was on the general's tab, so he looked at prices, _(looking for the most expensive)_ , before he actually looked at the choices. He glanced up to see Roy sharing his menu with Stella.

Wait.

Roy had never introduced them to a date before. Roy never introduced them to people that didn't figure in somehow. So if Stella figured in, then Stella was more than just a fan or maybe even more than just a date. If she was more than these things, then maybe Roy wanted to introduce them because she was going to be the future. Roy's future.

Like Al, Roy was moving along in all the directions right. Ed's stomach clenched and he wasn't sure why. Ed's throat tightened and that puzzled him, too. If Al and Roy were moving right, then he was sure to follow, because that is what he did. He followed Al and Roy, and he moved toward his own future.

"Wine preference," someone said loudly on his right and he jerked and turned his head and Roy was looking at him, one side of his mouth turned down, one eyebrow arched up. "Ed? Planning on joining us at dinner tonight?" he said.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, what was the question?" Ed said, wetting his lips.

"Do you have a wine preference?" Roy said, looking fondly exasperated and proffering the wine menu.

"What? Fuck no, you know I don't care what you order," Ed snorted, then Ed remembered where he was and who he was with and he cautiously looked toward Al and Sally. Al looked like Roy, exasperated but in a way that wasn't out for his blood. Sally looked intently interested in her menu, as if she heard nothing and Stella winked at him when he looked at her.

"Roy wants to be such a wine snob," she leaned forward to confide in Ed, "it all tastes the same to me."

Ed nodded and looked at Roy again.

"You can pick," he said loftily, "you like being in charge no matter where you are."

Roy looked from Ed to Stella and back to Ed again. Then signaled the waiter. Sally and Al were now looking at a menu together as well.

**

Dinner was full of lively chat that Ed did his best to participate in. Some of it was academic and work related and Al asked for his opinion on a few topic that had come up at his job. Roy asked a few questions about the current project and in the end Ed felt like they were doing that to make sure he was included in the conversation. Otherwise it would have been the women comparing notes on girl things and asking Roy and Al for their opinions as well. Ed found that girl things baffled him and frankly, he'd almost rather spend an evening with drying paint. But he was grateful that the male portion of the party didn't forget him; because really, wasn't he just the fifth wheel here?

He still hadn't let himself think to deeply on the subject of Stella. After all, he really shouldn't be thinking to deeply about it, should he? Stella was Roy's business and none of his own and even though she was a bolt from the blue, she didn't strike disaster into the situation and Ed wasn't sure how to feel about that.

Old, familiar, shameful feelings had stirred briefly when it had become apparent that Stella was _with_ Roy, but he quickly quashed them. He had come to far to go back to that, and he should be happy for Roy, like he was happy for Al. But Al having a girlfriend didn't make his skin itch or his chest tight or his tongue tied.

So why did Roy's?

Well this was a hell of a note, what the fuck was he? Jealous? Why should he be jealous? What was there to be jealous of? Sure he'd make overtures what seemed eons ago, but they'd been brushed aside and done to his own benefit. Then things began to get bad and worse and then slowly they swung the other way and in all that time he didn't think of what he'd proposed to Roy those many years ago. It was obvious now that Roy hadn't put much stock in it; just took it as the ramblings of a man hanging onto sanity by his fingertips.

He drank his way through dessert, listening and participating when he was directly questioned. He tried not to think about Roy in any other way than he had in the past few years. Roy was in some ways his savior, in some ways his guardian, in all ways his friend. Roy had been there when Al couldn't and Roy had done things that Al wouldn't and in the end Roy had once again helped them through one of the most desolate spots in their lives. Ed knew Al looked to Roy like that father figure he'd always wanted and never had, and for a while, Ed thought he might look to Roy with the same intent.

But it wasn't, that he knew for sure, and it never was.

"What are you to me?" he murmured and then started and blinked as everyone looked at him. Realizing, belatedly, he'd spoken aloud.

"Better lay of the dessert wine," Al said with a grin. "You're talking to the invisible people again."

"And here you claim you have no wine preference," Roy said smugly. "You've practically finished off this bottle by yourself."

"Just having a good time," Ed said, plastering on a fake drunken smile. "Just enjoying being here with everyone and everyone having a good time. You know, I don't get to see you guys as much as I want to; I never thought there would be a time when we all lived so far apart. So I'm having a good time and I'm making up for lost time and I'm thinking about the things that I should have said or done..." he trailed off then for a moment. "But that's neither here nor there," he continued on after his pause, he snatched his wine glass up. "We haven't had a toast, let's make a toast! General, you make a toast, you're really good at it."

Roy gave him a smile back, but his eyes were questioning. But he played along, lifted his glass.

"Let's see now, a toast," he said. "I say we toast the holiday, and we toast our family. We toast our success and our achievements, we toast our choices and our future. A toast to all of us, at this table and to the future that looks brighter all the time."

Everyone as the table clinked glasses and congratulated the general on his excellent toast making capabilities, including Ed, even if he didn't feel his choices needed toasting.

**

Sally could out cook Alphonse. Ed never thought he'd see the like, and together in the kitchen they were a force to be reckoned with. Ed and the General were fed a breakfast fit for kings the next morning, when Al and Sally showed up on the doorstep, market bags in hand.

It was the big day. A home cooked meal, a speech on the radio, some lounging in the yard. Tradition, something he'd had very little of in his life and he rather looked forward to it. As suspected, Al and Sally had some sort of grandiose meal planned and the general had all the right wine for each course. Stella, it turned out was coming over later with dessert, some sort of decedent cake. And Ed? Well, he could borrow the car and go buy cheese and crackers and relish to tide them all over before the big meal.

Big whoop.

"Just let me peel something," Ed begged later in the kitchen. "I can peel things! Al you remember that time I had to peel all those potatoes because for some reason I didn't have enough money to pay for all that food we ate...ok well Ling was with us, but still, you remember that don't you?"

"I remember some incredible mess left behind when you were convinced you could peel potatoes with alchemy," Al recounted, amused.

Sally took pity on him. "Let's have Ed cut up the vegetables for the garnish tray," she cajoled Al, "that would be a big help."

Al seemed to ponder this and Ed gave him his most appealing 'let me be useful' eyes and Al relented and they sat Ed at the table with all manor of raw vegetables and a peel utensil and a paring knife.

"Just do it like I told you to do it, don't be inventive," Al warned.

"Fullmetal, never volunteer," the general said grimly from the doorway. "I have an excellent crossword and cup of coffee awaiting me, so, I'll leave you to it."

"ROY, do your crossword in here, sheesh, we're suppose to be doing things together," Ed yelled after him, trapped by the potato he was whittling down to a nub in his hands. "Why does he want to do that? Why doesn't he just hang out in here, I won't make him peel anything," Ed sighed.

And to his surprise, the general took his direction and returned to the kitchen, newspaper and coffee cup in hand. He sat at the table opposite Ed and Ed couldn't help the grin that spread on his face.

"Fine," the general said, "you can help me with this crossword."

Al came over to rescue the potatoes, _(and other as of yet unbutchered vegetables)_ , and left his brother and the general to the crossword puzzle so he and Sally could cook in peace.

**

Dinner came and with it came Stella and a cake with so many layers as to be a sin. They ate, they drank, the sat around and talked and Ed to his immense shame tried to hard to find a reason to dislike her.

To hate her. To want her gone. To warn the general.

He was so petty. He had his chance. He couldn't blame her. He couldn't hate her.

He couldn't feel sorry for himself. He couldn't let it show.

This was a holiday, dammit. This was a happy time. And he was happy that he was here.

And he was crushed that she was here.

But he couldn't hate her, even though he tried.

 _I'm jealous_ , he finally conceded.

Too little, too late.

**

Early the next afternoon he and Roy escorted Al and Sally to the train station so they could make their way home to the south. He and Al shared a long hug and some soft words in each other ears, then some back pounding to re-establish their manliness. Roy and Ed received a sweet hug from a girl who had strawberry curls and smelled like flowers, and they watched the pair of them, Al and Sally, Sally and Al, board the train and wave from the window as it left the station.

The holiday was more or less over.

Ed wasn't due back at work the next day, but the day following it and he toyed with the idea of spending the night with Roy and maybe talking to Roy, or maybe not, he wasn't sure what to do.

"Are you staying tonight?" Roy questioned, seemingly reading his mind. "Stella is coming over later, we can go down to the cinema and maybe one of those late night cafes with music afterwards."

Roy made the decision easy.

"Nah," Ed said, "I'll head out in a little while, I have some things to do back at home," he said.

Like kick himself repeatedly for being such a petty jerk. Like wonder why he never realized things until it was to late to do anything about it.

Like wonder what he was going to do when one of the best things in his life finally tied the knot and left him irrevocably alone.

Yeah, things like that.

"If you're sure?" Roy said, having that fucking uncanny sixth sense, a lot like Al, only not as good as Al.

"I'm sure," Ed said with a nod. "You spend what little is left of the holiday with your girl. Now that she's met us and she hasn't run screaming you got to make sure to reassure her we grow on her with time."

Roy looked like he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't and Ed wasn't sure if that made him happy or sad. Together they went back to Roy's place and Ed packed his bags and headed for home.  



	4. Chapter 4

The day after he got home was still a day off; not that he felt like doing anything. After he managed to drag himself out of bed and dig for something to eat in his cabinets he made a half hearted attempt to tinker with his motorcycle in the alley beside the building where he lived.

But he didn't feel up to it.

He wasn't sure why he felt like nothing more than lying on his couch and staring at the cracks in his ceiling. He wasn't sure why he felt so tired when all he'd done the better half of the morning was sleep in. He wasn't sure why he didn't feel like anything.

 _This is Stella Cavanaugh_

He closed his eyes against it. He shouldn't be feeling this way. What did he expect? All this time and he'd done nothing. Why had he done nothing?

Because he's always expected the general to be there. Was that it? Did he honestly expect Roy to put his life on hold why he went out and found his own life? What the fuck kind of selfish shit was that?

He turned over facing the back of the couch. He felt...anger and pain; he felt abandoned. But why did he feel that way? Roy did everything right. He spent time with Ed and Al, he took them out, they had dinner and he made sure Ed was included every step along the way. He wasn't being abandoned. Was Roy right, all those years ago? Did Ed finally free Al only to latch onto Roy in Al's place? NO! No, he wasn't going back to that. He could see it now. He could see all the self-destructive warped issues he'd had and he'd left them behind. There was no way Ed of now was going to be Ed of then when Ed of then was someone he was ashamed had even been part of him.

He was going to be happy. He was going to be gracious and supportive and all the things a good friend should be, because dammit, he wanted to be for Roy what Roy was for him all these years. He didn't want to be someone Roy had to deal with or worry about. He wanted to be someone Roy talked to and relied on and be the best at being Roy's friend as he could be. Because if being a friend was all he was going to get, he was going to make the most of it.

He was going to be a good brother, too. He was. And he liked Sally. He liked Sally with Al. They were so happy and well, they were helluva cute together. They'd make pretty kids.

Dammit.

He rolled back over and got up, determined to do _something_. He could go over his bank statement and balance it out. He could work on a new design for the Car nee Tank, he should do something productive with this day off other than lie around on the couch wishing for things he didn't have. Like his arm or his leg or Roy even. Dammit, dammit.

He could just go drink.

He startled at the loud, tinny ring that broke through the veil of self incrimination he was spewing all over his apartment. He let it ring another time before getting up and going to the phone stand by the door to answer it.

"Hello?" he asked into the receiver.

"Brother, just checking you made it home ok," Al's voice said over the line. "I thought you'd stay with the General your extra day, but he said you decided to go home yesterday afternoon."

"Oh, yeah," Ed said. "Good to hear from you Al. I had a great time. I'm glad I got to meet Sally. Was the train home ok?"

"It was fine, we're a little tired but fine," Al said. "We had a great time, too. Sally really enjoyed it and she told me to tell you hello when I called you. It was so good to see you. It makes me wish we lived closer together. It almost makes me wish I could convince you to come south. You've been here, it's nice, maybe you should think about it. I thought about you going home and being alone when you got there. I wish I could have stayed the extra day. Are...are you ok? I mean, I noticed you were sort of preoccupied the last day there and well, I just wanted to call and check in, because you know me; worry wart."

 _Dammit Al, get the hell out of my head_

"I'm fine. We had a busy schedule, I was a little tired and I drank all that wine the night before," Ed covered. "I thought that dinner you and Sally made was incredible. You have missed your calling, you guys should open a restaurant."

"You think so?" Al said cheerfully. "We both like to cook, you never know what could happen. So you're ok then? Everything is ok?"

"Why wouldn't it be? You got to stop trying to mother me when you're not around," Ed said with a little laugh. "I'm a big boy now, remember?"

"Yeah," Al said, "but old habits die hard. Ok well, glad to hear you're home safe, miss you already."

"Same," Ed said. "Say hi to Sally for me, ok? Tell her I said to open a restaurant."

"Will do," Al said, smile in his voice. "Talk to you later."

"Yeah, later Al," Ed said and hung up the phone.

**

"We are here to be the 'Cheer Up!' committee, look, coffee with lots of cream and I stole a whole box of sugar packs for you," Lambchop said the next morning, standing in front of Ed's drafting table.

"Is that so?" Ed drawled.

"And in case you don't need the cheering up like Lambbones here is insisting, it's good for that hang over you got going," Skeeter said. "Dude, look, donuts with sprinkles, extra score." He sat one on the edge of Ed's drafting table.

"I'm not hung over," Ed snorted.

Lambchop and Skeeter looked at each other. The Skeeter fished a five cen note out of his pocket and handed it over and Lambchop took it and stuffed it into his shirt.

"Did you have a fucking bet on if I was hung over or not?" Ed snarled.

"I promise I save every penny ever won on a bet about you and put it to good use," Lambchop said. "I donate to a clinic that gives free anger management lessons. Now, tell us what's wrong so we can hash it out and decide if you need counseling or liquor after work, come on," Lambchop patted the edge of Ed's drafting table and Skeeter had to save the donut from sliding down onto Ed's notes.

"I'm not hung over," Ed said. "Look, it's nothing, don't worry about it. We got work to do, so for once, let's concentrate on why we're here, ok?"

"Well this can only be one thing, Skeeter, will you excuse us for a few moment? I need to speak to the boss alone," Lambchop said.

"What? Why? How come I get excluded from all the good discussions? I know you guys huddle up and talk about me. Look, I have feelings, too and I'm a part of this team, too and I want to be in on the good stuff. What do you think he did? You can tell me, I won't tell anyone. I mean what could be so bad? Oh wait, dude, you did not get drunk enough to go home with Pickled Gina at the bar did you? I looked like that for...what I mean is I knew this guy who looked like you for a whole week after that. It wasn't that was it? If it is Lambchop, he needs more than counseling, he needs brain washing and maybe a junk transplant."

"How about I rearrange your face?" Ed asked casually. "So you know, it's where your ass is now. I think that would be a good look for you. I don't want to talk to anyone about anything that didn't happen or even if it did happen. I appreciate, and I really do, that you think somethings wrong, but really, everything is fine and I just think if we don't do some real work soon then we might get, oh, fired or something. So, today, work. Is that clear? I am the fuckin' boss, don't make me act like one."

Lambchop and Skeeter, as one, stepped back from the drafting table. They gave each other significant looks, then they did as Ed requested and retreated, perhaps not to do any actual work, but Ed enjoyed the space immensely.

But having space meant having time to think. And the more he thought, the more he thought of Roy and Roy being with someone that was other than himself. Roy being with Stella, who seemed like a good person. Roy being with someone, Al being with someone, Lambchop and Skeeter, while not doing so on a more permanent bases, usually being with someone for a least a week.

His life was passing before his eyes. All he could see for his future was the label 'uncle' and never being asked to bring more than a relish tray to a family gathering.

All he could see of his future was alone.

But he shouldn't think like that, should he? He should be thinking: 'Well, I just haven't met the right girl yet', but when he thought about that, his chest got tight. And the girl part of the thought got lost in the jumble and he found his thoughts wandering to: 'Well, there was someone who was right for you, but you didn't do anything about it, so now, you'll just have to settle'.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands and looked at the drafting table where he was supposedly working.

"Ok Lambchop, fine, come and talk to me," he said folding his arms defensively and studying the table top like mad. "I'm having some sort of weird ass crisis and maybe you can tell me not to be an asshole or something, I don't know."

"Not fair!" Skeeter wailed from across the room as Lambchop hopped up and hurried over to Ed's drafting table.

"Shut up," Ed yelled back, "you can give me advise on the next crisis or something!"

**

Lambchop, surprisingly, took it all in stride when Ed finally, haltingly, gave in and described the situation. Lambchop made no comment about orientation or morals and Ed found he was more relieved than he thought he should have been.

"You put a lot of weight on your brother's opinion," Lambchop said and Ed blinked in surprise. "I'm not saying you should use that as the basis for your life, but I think, even though this is about you and that gorgeous General you introduced us too, maybe you should tell him what you told me. And if you tell him, no matter what the outcome? He'll know, and you can move on from there. I think you should tell the General, I think he has a right to know."

Lambchop didn't tell him anything he didn't already know himself. But it was good to hear it from someone else, and he was grateful.

"Don't tell Skeeter I like a guy," Ed said. "Let's ease him into it, ok? I hate seeing him cry."

Lambchop nodded in agreement.

"He's so proud of you and your obvious manliness, he just gushes about getting to sit next to you at the bar," Lambchop sighed. "I think he'll be ok though, so don't worry to much about him."

"You're good friends," Ed let slip out and Lambchop smiled in a way that made Ed even more embarrassed about being so human.

"It's a mutual thing," Lambchop assured him.

**

Ed paced back and forth in front of his phone table that evening. He picked up the receiver, not once,but twice and hung it back up each time. He decided to go over what he was going to say in his head, but that didn't help, it just made him pace more. He almost came out of his skin when the phone rang and he stared at it dumbly, wondering who could be calling him and why. Usually Al called him once or twice a week. Well wasn't that ironic, Al calling him just when he was working up the nerve to call Al. And as he dithered on how to answer the phone, just how he should sound, _(Cheerful and carefree? Thoughtful and introspective? Desperate and clingy?)_ , it stopped ringing.

Well fuck. Was it really Al? It was probably Al, who else called him? Well what if, on this one off chance it had been work? Or Roy? Or Winry? Or Pinako? Or Skeeter? Or Lambchop?

He grabbed and pulled his own bangs in order to make himself _stop it already!_ When the hell had he turned into such a loser? Look at him! Standing in his dinky foyer, yanking his own hair over a missed phone call! It was those years of drinking, wasn't it? He really did kill more brain cells than his body could replenish. He was a sad, sad, cautionary tale.

Nothing for it. He had to grab the...pull the bull by...he had to do it; just go for it. What's the worst that could happen? Al could never talk to him again. Ok, that was definitely the worst. But he doubted Al would never talk to him again; it would be more like not speak to him for a few weeks and then, when he did speak to him? He would be cold and clipped. His tone would drip disapproval and a little revulsion. Al, being Al, would live up to the familiar duty of having to _deal_ with Ed, but he'd make it such an unpleasant experience Ed wouldn't want to be dealt with.

Yeah, that was worse; worse than Al never speaking to him again.

He scrubbed his palms up down his thighs, ok, just take deep breaths. You always imagine things about billion times worse than they actually turn out to be. Just suck it up and make that call. It's just a phone call. You can do it. You can do it or you can let it claw it's way out of your chest and spew all over someone important at an inappropriate time, you were good at that. No, just call Al and get it over with. Just call, just call.

The phone rang again.

He slammed into the wall opposite of the phone table, _(a mere foot and a half away)_ , jumping out of his skin a second time. Then he dove back for the phone, successfully knocking it off the phone stand. As he launched himself to try to intercept it before it hit the floor the receiver came off the cradle, struck him neatly in the forehead and clattered away as he and the rest of the phone hit the floor. It took a moment to remember who he was and what he was doing and he finally slithered like a snake to the receiver, grabbed it and nearly burst his eardrum slamming it to his ear.

"Hello?" he croaked.

"Uh, brother, why were you groaning...I can call you back if this is a bad time," Al rushed out.

"No, NO, it's a good time, Al I'm so fucking glad you called, I'm going out of my mind. See I was going to call you and then I thought maybe I shouldn't call you because well, because I have freak things to ask and I'm sure you're going to think I'm a freak to go along with the freak things I have to ask but I just can't help but be the way that I am, you know? I got this way, well you were there watching me get this way so I should think, as someone who shares my very blood, that you would sort of expect me to do freak things in freak ways and not hold it again me, overly. I didn't mean to rush right into this topic once getting you on the phone, in my mind my plan was much smoother and it included you know, some warm up small talk...so how's Sally?"

After a moment, Al said: "Sally's fine."

"Oh, that's good to hear," Ed said, trying to sound casual and not like he was lying on his stomach half way into his kitchen.

"But that's not the reason you called? I mean I called, I mean...ah brother," Ed could see Al rub his face on the other end of the phone line, "what is it you wanted to tell me?"

Ed pushed himself up with a grunt and sat cross legged, tugging the phone close.

"You know Al, I'm not sure where to start. Don't say at the beginning," Ed warned, "this isn't one of those things that makes any sense, so a beginning isn't where it starts," Ed ran his hand back through his hair, tugged at the base of his ponytail a moment. "Ah, ok, so...what did you think of Roy's date?"

"I thought she was really nice," Al said. "She was really intelligent; a good conversationalist and she is funny and seemed to keep up with the General easily. What did you think?"

"Pretty much what you thought," Ed said with a small sigh. "She would make a good General's wife," he said gloomily.

"So, what is the _real_ reason you wanted my analysis?" Al questioned. "Is there something bothering you about her?"

"Yes...no," Ed rubbed at his face. "Al, it gets complicated from here on in, alright? See, this is how it goes: you remember, a few years ago when I was having my bad spell? Of course you remember, I made your life hell right along with my own and everyone else I came into contact with, but we know that and that's behind me now."

Al made an affirmative noise.

"Ok, see what you didn't know is, well... I wasn't exactly picky with my relationships then, it was pretty much anyone who would give me attention got mine back," Ed continued.

"Don't tell me you know her from before," Al said. "Like, you went out with her or something..."

"No, no, no, if only, you might accept that better, no Al, the fact of the matter is I use to make a lot of passes at Roy; he always turned me down," Ed rushed ahead.

"I'm not sure what I'm suppose to say here," Al said slowly.

"Nothing yet, just save it up for the end. Ok, so anyways, the past being in the past, I didn't think about it much. I mean, Roy helped me out a lot, we both know it, and maybe at the time I thought 'hey, it was some stupid crush or gratitude something' and I moved along to where I'm at now. I mean, I really like hanging out with Roy, but I stopped thinking of it like that, like how I use to think about it. So I get here and I start thinking this having a life thing is working out for me. I got a descent job, I got some descent friends, I got you guys and life is good, it's what we wanted. So, here we go, all around me, everyone starts to...couple up. You and Lambchop and Skeeter, hell, almost anyone I run into has this other person in their lives, everyone but me. I didn't think to much of it to tell you the truth, I just didn't."

"I'm still saving up at this point, right?" Al asked.

"Yes," Ed continued. "So yeah, the everyone hooking up thing, it didn't really matter...until Roy. I don't know why it matters now, but it does. And it's not that I think Roy is the last scion for bachelorhood or something like that, it's Roy hooking up and I'm finding that he's hooked up with someone other than me? It bothers me. I think I'm thinking I've missed some sort of boat. I think I'm thinking that what I felt before wasn't just some gratitude thing. I think I'm thinking it was something real."

There was a few moments of silence.

"You can let it all out now," Ed prompted.

"Well, I'm not sure what I was expecting to hear, but it wasn't that," Al finally said.

"I know," Ed sympathized, "but that is what it is. If we weren't so freakin' close you wouldn't have to put up with this bullshit, Al."

"No, I'm glad you come to me with everything, I really am," Al said. Ed could just see him standing there, rubbing his temple. "I'm not exactly sure what to do with everything you bring to me, but I'm glad to have it. So, what are you looking for here? Advice? I'm not sure I'm up to telling you how to date the General, and besides, you are right, you're a little late to the game."

"Well, I mean, do you think I should just keep my mouth shut? I mean you know, sit on this and let it stew and fester and boil inside me until years later, down the road when he's got a walker or something I can just explode at him and he can't get away? I mean, that seems kind of cruel, don't you think? I mean when he's old and feeble I will still be ambulatory and so...will you listen the fuck to me? Tell me Al, I've snapped, that's it, isn't it?"

"Well, I don't know, really," Al said, sounding uncomfortable but determined. "I just hadn't thought about ever having to think about this sort of thing so you've caught me a little off guard. Let's see here. I don't really like the idea of you dating the General. It's not that I don't think he's good enough for you, I mean we both know he's a good man and all, it's just well, if you want me to be _honest_ , I'd much rather you date a girl."

"I have been dating girls, they don't tend to like me," Ed said. "I think I'm boring or something, I never know what to talk about."

"Well have you given it enough time? I mean what is your model for dating? You know that any good research takes time and you can't really judge the experience by the first few failures. I shouldn't have to tell you this, you're in research and development. You should take a page from your professional life and apply it to your dating scenarios," Al said reasonably.

"That sounds suspiciously like I'd have to make an effort," Ed returned.

"You know, to put it bluntly, you've raised the dead for lack of a better term, faced the gate not once, but twice, retrieved my body, did all manner of things...and yet _this_ is too much work?" Al sounded incredulous.

"I don't want to have to break anyone in," Ed half whined. "You know how I am, I'm eccentric, and that's being nice and besides, alchemy is science, that's easy. Finding someone who will put up with me that isn't you? That's a fuckin' miracle."

"Alright, then let's analyze this. You don't want to work at a relationship, you want one you think is seemingly already made. It's not so much 'breaking someone in' as you put it, it's that you don't like to compromise. Now, ask yourself about the General again. Do you really want a relationship with him, or is he a safety net? You know...you've done it before."

Ed slowly let himself fall backwards. It was a controlled fall, so his head didn't thump the floor or anything and he stared at the cracking plaster overhead and felt fear knot in his stomach. No, NO. He wasn't like that anymore. He wasn't. Was he?

"You know Al," he said, mouth dry and throat tight. "I'm going to go with, no, it's not that. Because I have to, because the alternative is something I can't think about. If we do a comparison of then and now it comes to my mind I'd be a lot more out of control and withdrawn about this. I think I'd be trying to reason this out with a whiskey bottle instead of you. But it's an excellent point, and I'll keep it in mind."

"Yeah, you're right," Al said, softening, "you've come a really long way. I didn't mean to imply otherwise."

"No, it's ok, it needed to be said, that's why I count on you," Ed said. "I need that perspective. But I'm still no closer to what I should do than I was when we started this conversation. I just feel he has the right to know. He's the one who always said I need to face my feelings and not hide from them. He was talking about my habit of pretending a whiskey bottle was you, like I mentioned before."

Al sighed into the phone and Ed could once again imagine his younger brother, standing there, sucking his lower lip.

"To be brutally honest brother, I think whatever you think is best is all I have for this one," he finally said. "I will, as always, be there for you, whatever you decide and I hope that's enough."

"It is," Ed assured him. "Thanks for listening to me. I'll just have to decide what I want to do from here."

"Call me if you need to talk about it some more," Al said. "Really, I know that just talking about things can help."

"You've proven it already," Ed nodded even though Al couldn't see it. "I'm not sure what I'll have to say the next time I talk to you, but, I know at least I can talk to you. I'd say wish me luck, but it's never worked before."

"You'll do the right thing," Al told him before they said goodnight and hung up the phone.

**

Were there ever any right things?

He tried to let it go for the night. He went to bed for what little he actually closed his eyes and worried about things that were too late to be worrying about and dreamed about things he had no business dreaming about.

And once again, he wanted what wasn't allowed.

The other thing that occurred to him, lying there not sleeping, was he shouldn't tell Roy anything over the phone. He shouldn't make painful confessions at a distance. He should be there to face whatever it was he was going to face and whatever it was Roy was going to say.

Probably something like: "Sorry Ed, I'm straight/attached/amused", something like that.

When he set himself up to sink through the earth, he sure didn't do it by halves.

He glanced at his clock and figured it was as good a time as any. Got up; left through the outside entrance as not to disturb the Galloways and in the wee hours of the morning rode into Central.

**

He left the bike down the street so the noise wouldn't wake Roy's neighbors. He walked up the path to Roy's door, paused, wished he had a clock and milled around a moment.

What if Roy wasn't alone? Now that would just suck like fuck. All this way and Roy had company. He should have called first. But he didn't because it was fucking way to early. Really early morning phone calls usually meant trouble. In the past they meant Ed was drunk and/or in trouble. So he didn't call.

He should have thought this through. He should have just waited for morning until he _could_ make the call. He should just ride on into town and stay at a diner or something until the hour was more descent, _(and Roy's company, perhaps, had left)_. He shouldn't be so fucking impulsive and gung ho to have his heart ripped from his chest and stain the general's gloves red.

He went up the steps, he should chance it. He went down the steps, no he shouldn't. He started down the walk, he should go wait this out, he started back up the walk, no time like the present.

He didn't know what to fuckin' do.

 _I have lost what little damn mind I had left. This is just INSANE. He should never have come here in the middle of the night knowing Roy was no longer a single entity. If he had a woman as good looking as Stella, he probably wouldn't be spending any nights alone, either. If he was an adult, and he did care for Roy as he claimed...then he should walk down the street, get on his bike and go home._

 _Because caring for someone meant doing what was best for them, first. He'd learned that with Al. He could be confident that, if anything, he cared for Al with a maturity that was always beyond his boyhood years. So yeah, he knew how to care for someone. Roy deserved it as much as Al deserved it and so, if caring meant doing the right thing, like Al had said, then doing the right thing was what he was going to do._

By the time he got back, he has half an hour to wash up and get to work.

**

"This is the third time I've left a message," the general said, causing the Colonel to glance up at him from her desk. "Well, it's not important, or at least it isn't right now, will you just make sure he gets the message? Thank you." And he hung up.

"Someone I need to track down for you, sir?" Hawkeye asked, lying down her pencil.

"It's Edward," the general sighed, leaning back in his chair and templing his fingers. "He's easy to find now, but impossible to get on the phone. He must be very busy," the general conceded. "It's not like him to let two, almost three weeks go by without at least a phone call."

"You may be right, perhaps he is very busy with work," Hawkeye said. "I'm sure he'll call you when he gets a chance."

"I know," the general said. "I have just gotten use to hearing from him; hearing how he's doing or what he's working on. I even look forward to it."

"You always looked forward to it," Hawkeye said, standing and picking up the files off of her desk. "That hasn't changed, no matter how old Edward has gotten."

"This is true," the general nodded and leaned forward again, fiddling with the papers on his desk. "I keep telling myself that his silence doesn't mean he's in jail or off drinking himself into a coma. He's proven himself well past that and it's unfair of me to think those things anymore."

"It's a shame he grew up and doesn't need you anymore," Hawkeye said, heading for the door.

"Actually, no it's not," Roy grinned behind her.

**

"What is it you're not telling me?"

Two weeks going onto three had turned into three weeks going onto four and in desperation, the general called the only other person he knew that would be keeping tabs on Ed; his brother, Alphonse.

"It's just...it's just it doesn't seem my place to tell you," Alphonse said, breaking as he always did within the first five minutes of direct questioning.

"I don't want you to feel you have to betray any confidences; just tell me this, is Ed ok?" Roy asked.

"Yes, he's fine, he's been working a lot," Al said. "He's sort of been working too much if you ask me. He took on some extra work or he hired himself out, I'm not quite certain, he's been kind of tired and we don't talk very long in the evening."

"Does he need some money for something?" Roy prodded. "He knows if he needs something I'll help him out. I saved that money he paid back to me all those years ago, I put it away to return to him when he got on his feet. I know he was talking about buying a house, it would make a good down payment, should I call him?"

"Oh well, you know, that is very kind of you General, and you know, I think that he would appreciate that. Why don't you try him at work?" Al said.

"How about you tell him to call me? I've been trying to call him for almost a month. I'm not sure they are giving him his messages. Call him and tell him to call me, I'll hang up now so you can."

"No, I don't think..." Al started.

"It's fine, I'll hang up right now, tell him I'm at home and to call me right away," Roy said, pulling the snare trap tighter around Ed's younger brother's sense of guilt.

"He won't call you back," Al blurted, trapped well and squirming hard. "General, it's not anything you've done, well it is something you've done but not anything you could help. Oh shit, he's going to kill me," Al groaned.

"So, he just prefers to keep me in the dark?" Roy said coolly. "I would think he would know he can talk to me about anything, especially if it's something I've done to offend him in some way."

"No! It's not that," Al hastened, then sighed heavily. "Alright, alright, I'm going to tell you, but I want you to know what a brilliant, manipulative bastard you are. Ed will know exactly who gave you this information and I want you to think about that when you both attend my funeral and visit my brother in jail for murder."

"Alphonse, you know I'd never give away a confidence," Roy said.

"Oh, you'll give this away," Al said flatly. "Alright, apparently, back when Ed was having his issues, he made some sort of advances at you. I don't want any details, ok? Anyways, he said that he thought it was all out of gratitude or because he was being so needy at the time and you remember how very messed up he was. Anyways, he said...that he didn't really think a lot about it until you introduced us to Stella. Now, he thinks about it. He thinks about it a lot. This is very uncomfortable for me, I might not forgive you for this anytime soon."

"If it's any consolation, I feel totally caught off guard," Roy said.

"Welcome to the club," Al growled. "So the long and short of it General, is my brother has some sort of thing for you and now you have someone else and he's upset about it, ok? He's avoiding you because he is trying to do the right thing. Now I personally don't see the avoidance as the right thing, but what can you expect him to do? It's a very awkward situation for _all_ of us, because I want him to be happy and I want you to be happy. I don't get that having you would make him happy, but I'm not Ed. So I don't presume to think for him like that. But what I would like to know, is what are you going to do about it? Because I don't want him to be hurt anymore than he is, ok? I never thought that I would be telling the Casanova of the military to stay away from my brother. Someone is laughing at me upstairs, I just know it."

"I don't believe this," Roy muttered.

"Well you need to start finding a way to believe it," Al said, "because it's not going away. I really think he just needs some time to get over it. I know he'll come around. So maybe you should just let him have his space. I'll let you know if anything comes up."

"Do you really think letting him avoid it will be the right way to handle it?" Roy asked. "If you remember..."

"I do remember," Al said,"but now isn't then and he's not the way he was. I, of course, can't tell you what you should do, I'm only telling you what I feel. He's hurting, but he's dealing. I think maybe you should let him come to you when he's ready."

It didn't sit well with Roy, but arguing it with Alphonse wasn't going to solve it.

"I hope he doesn't make me wait forever," Roy said. "Thank you for being honest with me, Al. It's a lot to think about. You'll call me and let me know how he's doing?"

"Of course I will," Al assured before they said their goodbyes.

**

Nothing bothered the general more than not being in control of a situation. He hated being on the outs, of not knowing where every piece fit, of not being the one that designed the final outcome.

He was a man of plans. All his schemes were his own, good or bad and in the end he reaped whatever benefits were the outcome.

Edward Elric was a Plan. The plan had been: find Hoenhiem and bring him to the military, convince him to join the cause.

But when that became unobtainable the plan changed to: bring the son of Hoenhiem to the military, raise him to join the cause.

Looking back on it, he felt ashamed. They had been so young and so desperate. It had been easy.

But what was done, was done. As as he, himself, grew older, he became aware of his mistakes. And the plan changed to: get them what they need. Give them back their lives.

He had tried very, very hard to make up for his mistakes, just as Ed and Al had done. It was why they bonded so well; it was because in the end, they were the same.

Roy felt, well he felt betrayed. That Ed would let something like this come between them and remove himself from Roy's life. What if it wasn't as temporary as Al assumed? What hurt the worst was that Ed didn't _trust_ Roy to come to Roy with the situation. That Ed assumed that Roy might not be the best opinion since the problem was with Roy himself.

That might be so in most cases, but this was about _Edward_ , and it was Roy's job to make sure that Edward was alright. He wasn't sure when it had become his job, but it had. He had taken on the role and he found himself loathe to relinquish it.

It wasn't fair for Ed to put him in this situation. He couldn't make such a choice.

Only Ed wasn't asking him for a choice. Ed was staying out of the picture. Ed was pretending there was no picture and that, too, wasn't right. He wanted Ed's company, he'd go so far as to say he needed it. They, the three of them, had weathered hell and they, the three of them, were still alive to talk about it. The things that they endured, it didn't make them friends, it made them family. And family was something Roy had precious little of; and so if he had to fight and cling to keep what he'd accumulated, he would do it.

He shouldn't allow Ed to put such a distance between them. He shouldn't allow Ed to keep harboring these feelings. He shouldn't allow Ed to still twist him into knots.

But he did, and he always would.

Because, he cared. He cared what Ed and Al thought. He cared what they did. He cared to know who they knew. He cared to be involved in their lives.

Maes had left him with that.

So he walked outside and got into his car and he drove. He drove for approximately forty-five minutes and he parked down the street so Ed couldn't see his car from his apartment window. He got out and he walked, hugging the fronts of the buildings and he went to the side stairs and he climbed them. And he milled about in the tiny hallway outside of Ed's apartment.

He checked his watch, it's was late, but not so late as to be indecent. He approached the door, then he turned and walked away, then he stopped and turned back, but still he hesitated in the hall.

He found, for once in his life, he really didn't know what to do.

Because, if he thought about it, even though the news from Al had been sort of a shock, he hadn't totally dismissed the idea.

That made him feel bad. It made him feel bad because it made him think of Stella. He liked Stella, he liked her enough she made him think of a future where she could be a part of it.

But he loved Ed. And if things didn't work out with Stella he might be upset, he might be crushed, but he would pick himself up and move on. If things didn't work out with Ed...

Well he couldn't think about that.

So in the end, he went back outside, back down the stairs and headed down the sidewalk toward his car.

"HEY BASTARD," rang out over his head and he stopped and slowly turned. Ed was hanging out of one of his front windows, when Roy looked at him he broke into a huge grin. "Wait, wait! I'm here, I'm coming right down."

Roy felt his chest and throat tighten as he saw Ed, coming around the corner of the building, trotting down the walk toward him.

"I just got off the phone with Al," Ed said, slightly flushed and breathless. "He told me that he'd talked to you and he begged me not to kill him. But, you know, here you are, so I guess he gets to live. I'm surprised, I mean, I thought well I might get a phone call and you be all you know, stern yet understanding or some such bullshit, I'm glad I didn't get the call. I'm glad you came."

Ed wasn't a very good interpreter of intentions, or perhaps he was. Before Roy's little realization in the Ed vs. Stella department, then Roy's intentions might have matched Ed's achingly beautiful smile. But instead, since family wasn't dating and family wasn't disposable and Ed was to precious to risk...

"Well I was a little put off by the fact you decided I was no longer worth your time," Roy said, a little brusk and harsher than he'd originally intended. "I did speak to Alphonse and he did tell me the situation. Edward, as I told you all those years ago, our relationship is complicated enough without introducing sex into the mix. When you wouldn't return my phone calls I figured I had no choice but to drive out here and hunt you down."

Roy bit down hard and he held on. He watched the smile drop from Ed's face, he watched Ed's eyes anxiously scan his own face and he saw Ed clench his hands and hunch his shoulders.

"I'm really sorry, Edward," Roy said, voice gentling easily on it's own, "but I can't. I'm very flattered, but it's not that easy, and there is another person to consider. I hope you won't hold this against me. I consider you family, I hope you consider me the same."

"Of... of course, you know, you piss me off thinking otherwise," Ed said, steadily. "I understand and I'm glad you know, that this didn't make you mad or anything. I appreciate you coming all this way to check on me and I don't want to keep you because you have to drive all the way back and it's getting late. So yeah, don't worry General, we are alright. I'm glad you at least know, I mean I feel a lot lighter now if you know what I mean. I'm sorry, too. I mean, I'm sorry to put you through this, you've done some much already and well, I'm just sorry."

Roy wanted to touch him. Hug him very tight and keep all the hurtful things in the world away, even the hurtful things he delivered himself.

He took a half step toward Ed, raised his hand but Ed shied back and nodded back toward his building.

"Be safe, going back," Ed rushed out. "I'll call you later in the week or something," he said, retreating.

Irony hung over Roy's shoulder and lifted its hand and pointed at the retreating back of Edward Elric. And then it whispered in Roy's ear about how Roy loved him and how Roy would be with him...if only Roy wasn't afraid of losing him. And Roy just let it hang there for a while, making fun of him, before he turned and made his way back to his car and drove home.


	5. Chapter 5

They say time is the great healer.

But Roy wondered if that was actually true and just who 'they' were anyways. Far be it for unknown sooth sayers to give anecdotes to his life. He was never one given to put much faith in a flashy arrangement of verbs, adjectives and nouns. He, himself, was a master of the parlay of the spoken language, and therefore he knew all the tricks.

People rarely mean what they say.

Despite the assurances that nothing would change between them, Roy could only wonder why it never use to be a month between calls. Why there was never any mention of future visits.

Of course, everything had changed.

It was these times, alone for the evening with just himself and perhaps his scotch bottle for company that he started to dwell on these things. It was becoming more and more of a difficult task to find solace in a busy schedule and a pretty face.

He missed him. He felt alone.

But that wasn't right, because his universe was full. In every direction he turned there was a familiar face to keep him company, in companionship and in bed. There had been the obligatory meeting of the parents, the siblings, the aunts and uncles and other such people to whom he was exceedingly polite.

He cared for her, he did. It wouldn't do to make a bad impression with people he might be integrated with for the rest of his life.

Ed had friends, he had Alphonse, he had his budding career. He has people who cared about him, Roy included, in every direction he also turned. From the outside looking in, his universe was also full.

So, how to explain the ache Roy carried in his chest. The place that had been growing with every day of the last month where there hasn't even been so much as a phone call or a short letter scribbled on scrap paper.

What was more important? The rest of his life or the rest of Ed's life?

What a silly question. It was Ed of course. His life was caring for Ed's life. But how could he reconcile _this_? This had not been in the original equation. This attraction; this needing; this inappropriate thing.

And did he feel this way, because in some way, whether he meant to or not...he reciprocated?

Somehow he'd given the signals that spoke of interest, or the same longing, or the same needs.

But Ed didn't need that; Ed needed his life clean and pure.

Ed needed things Roy Mustang could never be. And no matter how Ed thought differently, well, Roy knew what was best.

And besides, he had a future now, a life with a woman from a large and prestigious family.

It could be all their happy endings.

If only Ed would call.

**

"What is with you lately, even when you are here, you're not really here, is it something at work?"

He looked across the table at her. He wasn't sure when his gaze had been pulled away or what he'd been staring at while in his thoughts.

"I'm sorry, it's just the usual," he said smoothly, settling into the chair, rubbing his hand over the leather cover of the menu.

"Is it something you can talk about?" she asked, her own menu already open. "I get to see so little of you during the week it would be nice to get even half of your attention. You've been working a lot of late evenings."

"It's the nature of the beast," he told her. What beast he wasn't sure. He'd been spending a lot of evenings at the office, but work was never the priority.

What was he avoiding?

"You're not telling me this is what I have to look forward to," she coaxed. "You'd make me a living widow if that were the case. Let's go to the cabin this weekend. It's time we took a trip on our own, don't you think? The cabin is free, I've already checked. We could borrow father's roadster."

Roy toyed with his napkin wrapped silverware and wondered if he made her wait to long before he answered.

"If you like. You're right, we should spend some time alone," he said.

That seemed to make her happy and she looked at the menu to pick out her dinner.

**

He remembered at time before Ed.

He remembered a time before ambitions and circumstances consumed everything in their path.

He remembered how it felt when Maes told him about Gracia.

He once was where Ed was now.

It hadn't really crossed his mind that Maes hadn't felt the same way. They had been in the academy, they had been close friends and they had been lovers. He thought, the combination of these things were all that he needed; but he'd been wrong.

He, too, had said too little, too late.

Did Ed feel the bottoming out? Did he feel the tightness in his chest? Did he feel he'd be alone forever?

Or was that his presumption? His own ego telling him these things. Because no ones experience in heartache were any real template for the next person. No two hearts broke alike.

He wanted to go and talk to Ed. Understand how he felt, try to reason out this situation so neither of them would feel alone.

He wanted reassurance that Ed didn't hate him.

And in truth, maybe he wanted more. Maybe he wanted to be convinced. Ed had occupied his every waking moment, _(and some sleeping ones)_ , since that confirmation of what Al had told him, when he'd spoken to Ed that night, on the sidewalk outside Ed's apartment.

And he shouldn't be thinking what he was thinking because he'd told Ed it was a bad idea. And he should let his own pride keep him from taking that step toward something that was risky, and he'd already confirmed he couldn't risk Ed.

So just what was it he wanted here? And if he knew anything about himself, he knew his life had been one long, risky venture that he'd managed to survive. Was it any less for Ed? In comparison his own risk seemed minimal.

So what was he afraid of?

He was tearing his own walls down, brick by brick. The very barrier the thought he'd erected to keep himself safe from possibilities that could potential damage more than just himself. His personal system of safety checks were failing. He'd risked his life, but never his heart. So was it really Ed he was seeking to protect?

It made him wonder.

It's hard to question ones own motives. In his heart he thought he was doing what was right for the people around him; he sincerely believed he made educated decisions, based on experience.

But if he thought about it hard enough; he really wasn't qualified to think he couldn't have a lasting relationship with anyone for the sheer fact _he'd never had one before_.

So who was he to pass judgment on what Edward wanted? Who was he to think he knew better?

In the matters of love and devotion, there was no greater expert on the planet than Edward Elric. Just ask his younger brother.

And if Ed was such an expert, and Ed saw something in Roy he wanted to pursue...then who was Roy to deny him the chance?

Because in the end, Roy could deny him nothing; because he'd seen Ed's hell in ways no one else had and he knew he'd been spared the worst of it by the boy himself.

Only he was no longer a boy.

Ah, he'd done it hadn't he? And now he supposed he could reason out that this was his way of moving away from another relationship with the potential to be something more. Maybe this was his way of ditching any personal commitment he'd ever undertaken. Here he had two hearts at once, one he'd already broken, _(perhaps, who was he to know? He was buying into his own hype),_ and one he might be breaking.

For truly, no one deserved him and he deserved no one and who better than to know just what that meant?

He had to go see Edward.

**

If only, if only.

If only he'd stop thinking about it. If only he'd never thought about it to begin with. If only he could tell Stella, if only he could tell Al, if only Edward would ride up on his motorcycle and they could have a grand confrontation in the best melodramatic style right out front on his walk.

Because he was a coward, dammit. A coward of unreasonable proportions. Now that he'd picked that hole in his carefully constructed dam of confidence, the doubt was seeping through, and the longer it went on, the bigger the hole got.

To his horror and total preoccupation he could think of nothing else. He excused himself from lunch dates and came up with unscheduled meetings and surprise inspections. And her voice grew uncertain and angrier with each postponed promise.

What was he to do? What the hell was he to do? And who the hell was Edward Elric to put him in this position in the first place?!

He was Roy Mustang. He was not some indecisive caricature of a man who chased his tail in a fruitless attempt to justify not only avoiding commitment but avoiding _normal_ commitment for the half assed hope he might have an questionable one at best.

When had he lost his mind?

Probably around the same time when Ed decided that he, Roy Mustang, was the chance he wanted to take. And what had it taken? Roy's interest in another person! A damn convenient time for Ed to decide he was serious. And then, of course, there was Ed's past track record to consider.

The fact he'd gone on a self destructive binge of epic proportions when Al decided to have a life, or a girlfriend, or anything that Ed conceived of distracting Al from focusing entirely on his elder sibling.

But now was that really fair?

For the past few years, Ed had been an independent, career oriented, successful rehabilitation of his former dementia driven self. Ed was the very model of change. And why should it be doubted, that Ed, who was so very good at _everything_ , not be sincere and truthful in his efforts?

Well because it didn't fit into Roy's agenda, now did it?

Because Roy, the very bastion of knowing what was good for everybody, was suddenly floundering in a unprecedented miasma of _self doubt_ , and that just wouldn't do. People did not throw _him_ for a loop. No, that wasn't how this game was played.

Because Roy always had to have the winning hand. Because Roy always had the right idea. Because Roy was _Roy_ , and he was the master of self promotion. He knew the material well, he'd written every last word that came out of every last mouth that said anything pertaining to Roy Mustang. It was an art form and he was a renaissance man.

And what was Edward Elric?

Edward Elric was a mass of contradictions wide enough to span the entirety of the globe. Edward Elric was the poster child for how to do all the right things the wrong way. Edward Elric was the champion of beautiful complications you didn't want to get involved in and couldn't walk away from.

Dammit to hell, why did it have to be Edward Elric?

He really shouldn't get involved in these internal conversations in the office. Everyone was looking at him funny. When he glanced up from his desk Havoc gave him a lame half wave and everyone else had neck cricks or something that forced them to look away. Well all of them but Riza, and she just looked at him like she always looked at him; total slacker that he was.

He toyed with the idea of calling Ed when everyone else went to lunch. But lunch was more than an hour away and perhaps Ed would be a lunch, too. It made no sense to call Ed, out of the blue, with no real agenda other than seeing if he could get Ed on the phone and then what?

What would he say? Just what could he possibly come up with to justify a call? He picked up his pen and stared at the blotter on his desk, he tapped the business end of the pen against it.

"You could put that to good use, sir," Riza said from across the room.

He could put it to good use. He could write an essay on the hazards of second guessing yourself into a nervous breakdown. He could write a dissertation, with footnotes, about eating crow.

"That is a pen," Riza supplied helpfully, "not a drumstick."

"Yes Colonel, thank you," Roy replied testily and Havoc almost chocked and had to excuse himself from the room.

Everyone looked up at the tentative knock on the door Havoc left open in his bid for freedom, _(so he could laugh a people who outranked him),_ and everyone glanced up at once. Stella smiled in a sheepish way, then shrugged and came into the office and over to Roy's desk.

"Surprise," she said and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I thought I'd see if being spontaneous might get you out of your current funk."

"I'm in a funk?" Roy said, jolted once again to the reality of just what he was contemplating and what it would mean to the woman who so obviously cared for him.

"You're so funky you're moldy, let's go drinking," she grinned.

**

He wanted to drink. He really wanted to drink and tell her everything he wanted to say and blame it on fermented things that had passed over his tongue and made their way to his stomach and from there held a coup and taken over the control centers of his brain. Why his control centers were in his stomach and not lower in his really useful regions, he did not know.

Stella had her elbow on the table and her chin in her hand and she was nursing the same beer she'd bought an hour ago; that was fair, he'd had the same beer for about an hour and a half.

"You're dying to tell me something," she said. "You're dying to just unload on me, I can tell, but you won't, and why? Because you think I can't handle it. You know, I think that's the problem with you. You always have to do what's best. You always have to have your thumb right on the pulse of the problem so it's really not a problem at all. You want to shield everything around you. You want to be an impenetrable wall of righteous and it's starting to get boring."

"Beg pardon?" Roy said, not sure he'd heard the last part right.

"I'm starting to see that I'm setting myself up here," Stella said, scooting her glass around the table, smearing the ring of wet it had left. "I thought I wanted a nice, quiet existence as a heavily guarded woman who's man was a territorial monster. I don't know why I had this misconception. But in this time with you, I've started to grow. I have to thank you, I really do, because without the guarantee I could have a risk free existence I didn't start thinking about having one that was filled with risk."

"Risk?" Roy murmured, feeling the most odd sense of deja vu. "So you're saying you want to take risks? But aren't you afraid that by taking chances with what is already a good think you could ruin it forever?"

"I know, it's one vicious circle, don't think I didn't have the same thoughts," she sighed. "And then I met Anthony."

"Anthony?" Roy said, feeling he'd lost track of the conversation somehow.

"He is totally wrong for me. He's reckless and idealistic. He's brash and a bit immature. He's not even completely employed, he just seems to work when he needs money. He's 6'2 of uncertainty and instability."

Roy toyed with his bar napkin. He wasn't use to being compared with other men while he was still in what he considered an active relationship. Usually comparison with other men came after the suggestion that maybe the relationship stay casual. Usually the comparison was a lot more hostile, too.

"Let's go back to the part where you said I was boring," Roy started and held up a hand to forestall her reply. "Let me about what you've said here, it's very informative. I want to provide you with stability and a certain future, but that's boring. Anthony can't promise you anything...but that's exciting?"

"I know," Stella said, waving her hand. "It makes no sense to me, either. So what is it you want to tell me? It's been on your mind for weeks now. It certainly hasn't been me and I feel like I can't even compete. It's really disturbing to be second fiddle to some internal monologue you're holding for yourself."

"I think you just told me volumes. So much so that there is no need for all my recent inner dialog. I could have saved myself a good talking to," Roy sighed.

"Well I thought this would be a mutual sort of dump?" Stella said. "But if you want to be a chicken and let me do all the dirty work, alright. Roy, I don't think we should see each other anymore. I like you and all, I want to be friends, how about that?"

"Ah, well as the affronted party who was obviously being cheated on I should hold a grudge for at least some predetermined period of time," Roy sniffed and crossed his legs.

"See? That's what I'm talking about. You know, all that nobility you have? That's right for someone, but that someone just isn't me? How about I let you be all resentful for a few weeks?"

Roy raised his glass of warm beer and she raised her, and they clanked and drank. Afterwards they both had a little grimace over flat, warm beer.

Cheated on and dumped, both a first.

And suddenly, he was a free man.

**

  
Risk.

A recurring theme.

So, it was all about the risk. That's what made life exciting? Here he thought he was through with risk. He knew about risk, he'd take plenty of risk. His life, his country, his very soul.

But never his heart.

So who was he doing a disservice to? Ed, or himself?

And should Ed always be first? _(Yes, yes and no at the same time. No, Ed knew risk and sacrifice and Ed should be allowed to chose his risk and sacrifice and who was Roy to protect him from the very things that made life what it was?)_

And was risk the reason he was in his car, in the dark and driving with all this new found awareness? To risk and to lose and to gain and the win; these things went hand in hand.

Risk made him park in the open. Risk made him ignore the darkened windows. Risk propelled him up the side stairs and down the hall and risk made him knock on the door with out hesitating first. Without questioning all these sudden motives. Risk made him an irrational, impulsive man; a place inside him he'd never visited before, a part of him he didn't even know he possessed.

It was quiet for a few minutes, so he knocked again. He heard some shuffling then, the sound of footsteps and a voice, hoarse and quiet and sounding cranky.

"Who is it?" Edward hissed as he pulled the door open a crack and poked just his nose though.

"It's me," Roy said, "I need to talk to you. It's important."

There was a moment of ultimate silence, then the door shut and Roy heard the chain and then the door opened and Ed just stared at him. Ed in just a pair of undone pants and his hair loose and frazzled all around his shoulders. Ed with a look of complete alarm.

"What's happened?" he asked, all urgency and tenseness. Because surely Roy wouldn't just drive here in the middle of the night to expound on the fact that he realized risk was just as much a part of life as certainty and in fact it was one of the things that was important. It was the thing that made people grow and change into human beings. It was how the most staggering defeats were achieved, but it was also the reason for the ultimate victories.

Surely Roy wouldn't come all the way here at this hour just to tell Edward _that._

"Stella dumped me," Roy began. The opening to tell Ed everything he'd learned. To show Ed that he, Roy Mustang, was not done growing into a human being. That people were an ever changing landscape of realizations and contradictions. To show Ed, he was not immune and he was not impenetrable and he was not always right.

He wanted to share all these things with Ed. He wanted to hear everything Ed had to say.

"Are you drunk?" Ed asked, sounding bewildered. He reached up to push his hair out of his face. "I can't believe you're driving all the way out here drunk to bang on my door and tell me you go dumped. What the fuck Mustang? You never got dumped before? Welcome to the club, you paid your dues. Fuck, I thought something was _wrong_. You fucking bastard, you scared me to death!"

"I'm not drunk," Roy assured him. "I've just been having this conversation with myself for weeks and tonight I went out with Stella and she said I was boring and that I would make a good spouse or something but all I could think of was the fact I've applied all that to you."

"Don't say completely random shit in my hallway outside of my door and not tell me your drunk, fuck it all, you know, I've been there, I know all about being drunk and wanting to spill your guts to people, you were one of the people, remember? What is this? Pay back or something?" Ed sneered.

"No, its not that at all..." Roy started, but another voice interrupted them, one from inside Edward's apartment.

"Ed?" said someone distinctly feminine, "Is everything ok?"

Ed shut the door a bit, turned toward the voice.

"Oh yeah, it's fine. Sorry, I'll be a minute, it's a friend of mine," he said in return.

All thought, risk or otherwise came to a halt inside Roy's brain. All internal dialog fell silent. Ed turned back, leaned out the door toward him.

"I'm sorry," Roy said automatically. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up unannounced. I should go."

"Look, I don't think you should drive, give me a minute, I'll take you to the hotel," Ed offered. "Just let me get a shirt..."

"I'm not drunk," Roy said, "I'm just...well never mind what it was. I'm sorry Edward. Please apologize to your lady friend. I'll talk to you later perhaps? It's been a while, you should call."

Everything shut down.

"Roy, wait...wait where are you...dammit, hang on a minute!" Ed said as Roy turned and strode down the hall. "Just...ROY, hey..." Roy heard the door shut, but he kept walking. Out the door at the end of the hall, down the steps to the sidewalk. The front window of Ed's apartment banged open, Ed stuck his head out, yanking on a shirt. "Wait a fucking minute! ROY!" Ed called.

"Call me," Roy called up to him, climbing into his car.

"You BASTARD," Ed cried down to him. "You complete and utter BASTARD. Who the fuck do you think you are?! You came all this way to tell me you've been dumped and now..and NOW...is that what you were going to tell me?!"

Roy stepped back out of his car, bowed to Edward, climbed back in and cranked the engine so he didn't have to hear anything else Edward had to say before he drove away.


	6. Chapter 6

"I know that look," Lambchop said as Ed came into the office. "You have to tell me _everything_ , and I mean everything, don't skip a single thing."

"What is to tell? He showed up at my door last night, Miranda was there and who the fuck does he think he is? He came to tell me he got dumped," Ed snorted with disgust. "He came to tell me that he got dumped and you know what that means? The fucker wants me to be the rebound. That is all he thinks of me, he wants me to be the safety net until the next woman who can't wait to suck his cock comes along." Ed shrugged his jacket off and threw it at his chair. The chair swiveled when the jacket hit it and the jacket slid off into the floor. They both looked at it. Lambchop folded his arms.

"Well, it's obvious how you feel about it at the _moment_ ," Lambchop said. "Do you really, honestly think that's what he thinks of you? I beg to differ. Maybe he was coming to you because he was in pain and he was looking for a prop. He's always been there for you, or at least, that's what you tell me."

"No, fuck," Ed rubbed at his face. "Fuck, don't do this shit, what is this, I thought you were on my side," Ed snarled.

"LOOK what I got," Skeeter interrupted loudly, strolling into the office. " You remember that banana in the break room no one would eat? Well I froze it in the ice box. I put it in there overnight and this morning it was still there. Since no one is bitching about missing a banana it's fair game. And behold, my morning cup of coffee. I have come up with an ingenious invention. It took some chewing but I eventually got the banana peeled, see?" Skeeter waved the frozen, chewed and slightly brown banana at them. "Now...watch," Skeeter proceeded to stir his coffee with the frozen banana. At the end of the demonstration he bit the end off the banana and chewed it and then laboriously swallowed it.

"It's an all natural snack AND it cools your coffee to the perfect drinking temperature. The problem is do I call it 'Banana Coffee' or 'Coffee Banana'?"

Skeeter looked between Ed and Lambchop, standing there at Ed's desk. He took a moment to notice Ed's scowl and Lambchop's crossed arms.

"You're having a crisis!" Skeeter said with glee. "I get to be in on this crisis, you promised! Lamby remind him he promised. This crisis is my turn, my banana coffee and I are going to sit right here at the table," and he came over and sat down, sitting the coffee mug on table and putting the banana inside it. "I'll sit right here with my coffee banana and dispense all sorts of sage advice. I'm switching up the names to see which rolls better off the tongue, ok I'm ready! Let's do this crisis solving thing. I need the practice at solving crisis, so let's go!" Skeeter sat up straight and clasped his hands before him on the table.

"He's so cute," Lambchop muttered.

Ed rubbed the back of his neck under his ponytail and looked at Lambchop. Lambchop rubbed his chin and glanced at Skeeter and sighed. Skeeter looked back and forth between them, doing his best to project a aura of calm and positive reassurance and crisis solving capacities. Really he looked like a grade schooler trying to earn a gold star.

"You did promise," Lambchop said, watching Skeeter and being overwhelmed.

"He has you right here," Ed said holding up a metal pinky. "I don't know, I don't want to upset him or shake his foundations."

"No, I can take it!" Skeeter said, unclasping his hands and balling them into fists of determination. "I'm here for you, Boss! I'm a big boy now," he gritted his teeth and leaned over the table. "I can deal with crisis, I have the stuff! I'll prove it! Give it to me! I can help! Let me help! Make him let me help, Lamby!"

"Oh, let him help," Lambchop said, putting his hand over his throat. "You have to let him help. How can you say no to that face?"

Ed sucked on his bottom lip a bit. He sighed heavily and nodded and Skeeter grinned ear to ear.

"Let's get you up to speed," Lambchop said, coming over and putting his hands on Skeeter's shoulders, standing behind him. "Ok, the boss likes someone. He didn't realize he liked them in the way he liked them until they got attached to someone else."

"Oooo, that sucks," Skeeter said in sympathy, "that really sucks." He gave Ed his best sympathetic face.

"Yes, well, it's partially my fault, too," Ed murmured, still uncertain about Skeeter being privy to his emotional baggage.

"So, is this someone we know? I mean, have we met them?" Skeeter asked practically. "Is it a girl from the bar?"

"Well, we've met them before," Lambchop said, "but not at the bar. You met them here, when they came for the inspection. It's someone from the boss' past."

"You mean that girl General with all the...," and Skeeter gestured out in front of him, mimicking a woman's anatomy, "...that one?! You have good taste. I approve. So what's the plan? Find her boyfriend and give him a good once over?! I can be on board with t hat, except if he were to start crying, I can't deal with crying. I mean even if a guy is crying, I can't deal," Skeeter said waving his hands.

"Nice guess, but no, it wasn't the female military officer," Lambchop said, starting to knead Skeeter's shoulders.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea," Ed suggested. "I mean, you know, Skeeter isn't as...um, worldly as the rest of us and maybe we should just forget about this for now. I mean, we're on a deadline here. We should be working instead of standing around talking about things we don't need to talk about...really."

"You think I'm insensitive and not good at helping," Skeeter said and hunched up his shoulders and Lambchop gave Ed a look and kneaded on Skeeter's shoulders harder.

"No, it's not that!" Ed said. "It's just well, it's not a subject I think you are well versed in...some help here Lambchop?"

"How is he ever going to learn if we keep babying him?" Lambchop said. "He said he wanted to help, and I think that you should take his offer at face value and let him help."

Ed folded his arms and looked between them. He'd really come to rely on these two, count on them as friends, the people he _could_ turn to in the absence of his family. In fact, he felt it so strongly that the thought of Skeeter being unable to accept this...situation quite frankly frightened him. He found, despite himself, he wanted to be liked and he wanted to have friends. He wanted to keep these two as his friends because he was use to them. He didn't want to have the hassle of finding new friends. It had been convenient they were assigned to him at work and had no choice but to make friends. Yeah, it was like that, because still the thought of people actually _liking_ him that hadn't known him for all his life? That still didn't sit well; even if he promised Roy that he'd broken the unlovable rule ages ago.

"Ok, no babying. He's an adult, He can take it," Ed said and Skeeter sat bolt upright with a huge grin. "Here goes. Skeeter, the person I'm referring to is General Roy Mustang. You met him on the inspection, he's the one who injured his back on our project. I have had, at varying points in my life a full blown crush on the man, and he's always been there for me, he took care of a lot of shit and he took care of me when I was at a real low point in my life. Now I thought that this guy crush was all due to the immense gratitude I felt for him and so I didn't act on it. I was young, the young go through phases. But as it turns out, the moment that Roy found someone else to be in his life besides me, well...I suddenly realized that that crush wasn't just a crush after all. I know, it sounds really pat that I waited until he was attached, but that is how it worked out. Not everything in life is unique and different, sometimes we do all fall right into the same old categories. Last night, while I was with Miranda he showed up at my door to tell me that he'd been dumped by the women he was seeing. Mind you, this was after I had made a confession, vicariously through my brother who survived the experience, that I liked him more than crushing on him. So he shows up to tell me he'd been dumped and I get the damnedest impression that he thought that was an automatic ticket into my life, and I dunno, I don't think it should be because you know, I asked him before, I did. I asked him to be with me and he said no, he claims it was because I was fucked up and maybe I was, but I haven't been fucked up for a while. Sure, I want to be with him, but I don't want to be his rebound boy, you know the one he cries on then chases the next skirt down the hall. When I do the serious things I do them for real and I think, really think he could be a serious thing, but I don't know. I don't know what to do or to think. You don't know him that well but he's a great guy, he's really good with people, he really cares and you know, that's a fucking rare commodity these days. So part of me says jump this chance, part of me says he's going to tear me to bits, part of my just doesn't want to fuck up our previous good relationship."

Ed took a deep breath then. "So, what do _you_ think I should do? Lambchop has already made me feel an inch high suggesting that I should have been more sympathetic because fuck, I think he was right, but let's have another opinion."

"I don't wanna be in this crisis," Skeeter suddenly whined, "can I wait for the next one that doesn't involve you liking other guys?"

"Seymour Keetering!" Lambchop snapped.

Ed jumped and whipped around, looking for this person who had wandered into the room while he was spilling his guts. First, he's have to see how much they heard, second he'd have to see how well they could be threatened and third he'd have to think of a place to hide the body. But no one had entered, in fact the door was still firmly shut.

"I can't believe you would be so...so... _shallow_ as to want to pick and choose _which_ crisis you want to be supportive on," Lambchop said, hands on hips now, moving around Skeeter to give him a withering glare. "I have taught you better than that! I can't believe all my good works of making you an accepting and somewhat sensitive human being have turned into this," and he waved a hand up and down at Skeeter. "I'm ashamed, I'm truly ashamed."

"OOooooo," Skeeter moaned, hanging his head back. "Don't look at me like that, you know I hate it when you look at me like that! It's not that I don't wanna be supportive, I do, but the though of the boss liking other guys makes me feel all funny and creaky inside because I don't want him to!" Skeeter stamped his feet a little on the floor. "He's a man! He's like the manniest man ever and you know he was famous for kicking ass when he was a little kid and now you know I find out that he is...well he liked you know, other things besides girls and there isn't anything wrong with that! I know that you know it's all live and let live but dammit, he's suppose to be the guy that I want to grow up to be and I don't wanna grow up and like _boys_!"

"Your name is Seymour?" Ed asked. "I didn't know your name was Seymour. I wonder why I never knew that, well I guess it's not like I asked or anything. Wow, Seymour, I would have never guess Seymour."

"Boss," Lambchop said, pining the gaze on Ed now, "don't let him get away with that. Enabling! You're enabling this selfish behavior. I'll wash my hands of the both of you, I will, just wait. One day it will be all..." Lambchop made a motion of rubbing his hands together as if sudsing them up under running water, "and then, you'll be on your own. I will at least know, in my heart of hearts that I tried and that will be enough for me and whoever is judging me when I'm no longer on this planet doing my part for the very soul of _humanity_."

Skeeter had the good graces to look guilty and Ed reached up to rub the bridge of his nose.

"It's an awkward situation, I don't blame Skeeter for being uncomfortable," Ed finally said, making a patting motion in the air to placate Lambchop. "But I guess the real point of the matter is... do I want to take a chance? I've taken chances my whole life, so why should I be hesitating over this one?"

"It's important to you," Lambchop said, "not that the others weren't, but they are the past, this one is your future."

"I'll go with Lamby here," Skeeter said, folding his arms and jamming his hands into his armpits. "I mean I'm still not on board with the liking a guy thing, but it _is_ you know, or it could be the rest of your life. Do you think I could have Miranda's number?"

It was then the door of the lab swung open and John Collins, the boss of them all, stood there, clipboard under his arm and set to his jaw.

"Ladies, you've been in here all morning while I got a car in the bay waiting for a nice, new shiny coating of amour. We got a presentation by the end of next week so I suggest you GET A MOVE ON," he snarled. Ah, John Collins, you could take the man out of the military but never the military out of the man. Ed and Skeeter and Lambchop all jumped and ran into each other running for their gear.

"That's what I like to see, SOME HUSTLE," Collins roared, then stood back to let them all thunder out the door and sauntered after them down to the bay.

**

He really didn't know why he had expected it to be any different.

Although Ed and logic were steadfast partners in all things scientific, in the world of actual human social interaction they rarely spoke.

He was never one to buy into pat endings. He was never one to grace all the fairy tale romantic gobbdly gook with more than a pacing glance. He had been, and had to be, a realist. Without the facts he couldn't make clear observations, without clear observations he could never make predictions and without predictions he could never stay one step ahead.

And here he'd danced his dance in the most erratic of fashions and without any clear knowledge of just what was _really_ going on inside Edward's head, only his own faulty predictions it seemed. By what logic did he think that Edward, who'd made it his life's mission these last five years to move ahead, would simply wait for him to wise up? Edward had clearly been the more insightful of the two, as odd as that seemed, as impossible as it would have seemed not so very long ago. He tried to rebuild one of his crumbling barriers by telling himself that Edward was overplaying his bid at adulthood and rushing into things. That is was _Edward_ on the rebound here with the first pretty face that gave him a smile and some passing interest. After all, it was precisely how he'd handle relationships before. But that flawed logic kept the foundations crumbling and the barrier stayed very firmly unresurected and just where did that leave him?

It left him in a the very unfamiliar territory of not being in control of a situation. A situation that involved him in more ways than either friendship or professional had ever involved him. And to what end? Where exactly was he getting by all this mind boggling speculation and self incrimination? Nowhere. Because now, he was alone, just as alone as he had pictured Edward, only Edward hadn't followed him into this sink hole, he'd gone there all on his own.

This was a fine mess. It was a fine mess that Edward had handed him, granted via his own short sightedness, but Edward was the messenger all the same. He didn't rank this as experience for a later date, he didn't see this as a blunder to chalk up in the annals of misfortune.

He had missed the fucking boat.

Of all the things that had happened in his life, of all the trials and triumphs, tribulations and downfalls, he'd never once, not _once_ , been unable to jump on the deck before the boat left the dock. He always knew the ports of call, he always knew the destination. He was always right where he needed to be as he traveled upstream. There was nothing beyond his ability to spin.

Well, that wasn't quite true anymore, was it?

But wait a moment, back up to the point where he watched his boat sail off into the bedroom with some unidentified girl in a walk up apartment. Just what made him think that Edward Elric was a boat worth sailing in the first place? Maybe all this torment was for nothing; maybe he was raking himself over the coals for all the wrong reasons. After all, he had a reputation, he wasn't use to being turned down. Was this all some sort of twisted way his self conscious dealt with a bruised ego?

If it could be that, well hell, he could come to terms with that fairly easily. He could slap himself around a little and chide himself for being internal arrogant rather than outwardly arrogant. It was just like him to be so embroiled in the hype as to get momentarily distracted by himself. He _had_ to believe his own billing, if he didn't, how could he convince anyone else to? So all of this was actually just a chaffing of his pride in being the man everyone wanted. That was it. It really wasn't about Edward at all. Who would have thought it? He should feel ashamed, really. Here he was having some strange relationship issues and looking to blame Edward's past. No matter, he could fix this right up. He could watch the dingy that was the good ship Elric fade away into the sunset and catch the next luxury liner that happened past. He could stop with the damn boat metaphors already, because they were starting to get less and less witty.

So starting tomorrow he was over this. This would be the last night that Edward would be able to keep him fixated without his physical presence. It was time to move on, _(ironically Edward being a good example of that)_ , and put all of this behind him.

In the morning he would start fresh.

The only problem with that, was that in the morning, while he stood in the shower he wondered about the girl Ed was seeing. He wondered if she knew all the little details, not the obvious ones, such as Ed's distaste for milk or sensitivity about his height or ability to read himself into a coma; but all the other things that made up Ed as a whole.

Like, how he could derail any train of thought and had to often be steered back on course. He could be extraordinarily scattered for someone so amazingly intelligent. The way he stilled needed subtle reassurance that humanity as a whole more or less accepted him and he was not something extraneous. Could she appreciate the way he absorbed knowledge like a sponge and turned it instantly into a usable commodity for himself and everyone around him? Could she appreciate the way he would hold things inside himself and did she know what to say to coax him to talk? Was she jealous of the overwhelming affection he had for his younger brother, putting Al in all things first, including any relationship Ed himself might have? Did she realize that the intensity of his feelings might be both a burden and a blessing? And if she did get close to his heart, did she realize just how easy it was to shatter?

Did she know he liked his ham sandwiches without cheese?

"We have to stop meeting like this," he mumbled to himself, reaching up to turn off the water. "I'm not sure what you would ever get out of it, but I'm getting both gray hair and an ulcer." He stepped out of the tub and leaned against the vanity, raising his hand to wipe the steam from the mirror. The man in the mirror looked as exasperated and as bewildered as he felt himself and offered no answers at all.

"I don't know what I'm getting at," he told his reflection. "I don't know what I'm suppose to feel. This isn't my ego, is it? If that's the case there is only one other thing it could be, and I'm not ready to admit that yet. Not to you, not to me and not to Edward most certainly," and Roy rubbed his chest. "It wasn't suppose to be like this, it just wasn't."

When rationality and logic failed, emotions rushed to fill the void. He was not a man use to having to deal with his emotions. For a long time, he'd had others to carry that burden for him. He has his dignity in the form of a woman with a gun, he had his pride in the from of a man who never gave up, he had his logic and humor and wonder all neatly pinned on the people he surrounded himself with. He never had to wear his emotions on his own sleeve, he had the sleeves of others. And then of course, he had to meet the one person who depended on him for the _same things_. Who watched him with golden eyes, who needed him to rise to the challenge.

"I didn't do a very good job, did I?" he asked the man in the mirror. He was too busy knowing what was best for everyone else. He was too busy being right.

"I never had to deal with risk in this fashion," he whispered. "Before it was all cut and dry. Risk was only the means to an end and if you didn't win you died, so you'd never be around to have to deal with the consequences."

This wasn't fair. It shouldn't feel like this. It couldn't feel like this because he had no one to pin this too, well he did, but it was only himself. What a colossal coward.

"I don't want him to be with someone else," he told himself. "I want him to be with me."

But there was no help for that, was there? It was a done deal. All these very first times for everything. Stella for showing him he wasn't all he thought he was by merely being himself...and Edward for showing him his very first broken heart.

**

They sat around on the floor and planned out the presentation.

"If you're going to play a Drachman, the first thing you have to remember is that all the words don't end in 'ski'," Lambchop said patiently. "I know you have a lot of fun with that, but it we're going to present a plausible scenario we have to just pretend that this particular Drachman can speak fluent Amesterian."

"You take all the fun out of everything," Skeeter snorted. "I on the other hand like to lighten up the occasion. I mean what's wrong with: 'I want your handski's in the airski?!' What's wrong with that? I think it's an excellent ice breaker, you know, lighten the mood, be all chummy with the war mongers."

"I have to go with Lambchop on this one," Ed said, giving Skeeter his best regretful expression. "Being a former war monger I can tell you that they are all hung up on protocol. I'm sorry, I think you would be a first class stand up comedian myself. I think you're wasted here."

Skeeter wrinkled his nose and folded his arms.

"You still get to wear the uniform," Ed consoled him.

"I know," he said, not looking at either of them.

"You still get to fire the gun at the car," Lambchop said and patted his knee.

"I know," Skeeter parroted, still staring at the floor.

"How about I make sure the next time we're going to act out a scenario for the benefit of a client you do get to do in a funny and vaguely insulting accent, deal?" Ed offered.

"Ok," Skeeter sighed. "But not Cretain, they're hard to do."

"Ok so we're all on board with the plan. We pull this presentation off without a hitch, we make loads of money, John stops riding our asses and we get fame, glory, blah blah blah," Ed said.

"It's a plan!" Lambchop said, then sobered a moment. "Are you going to try and see him while we are there?"

"I don't know," Ed said. "I hadn't thought about it."

"Of course he'll see him," Skeeter said. "He came to the inspection, he'll be at the presentation."

"That's not what I mean," Lambchop said. "I mean really see him, go and meet with him, talk to him, are you going to do that?"

"I guess I should you know, maybe even if it's just to tell him I'm sorry he got dumped," Ed said differentially. "He might be busy, he might not have time to see me."

"Have you called him?" Skeeter asked. "Maybe he thinks you're mad at him or something. You're not are you?"

"No, I'm not mad at him, don't be stupid," Ed said, frowning. "Why would I be mad at him? I don't have any reason to be mad at him."

"You should call him," Lambchop said, leaning back on his hands. "You don't plan on avoiding him forever do you? I'm sure that won't make either of you happy."

"So why hasn't he called me?" Ed grumbled. "Why is it I got to call him? He hasn't made any effort to call me either you know."

"I think you started that dreadful trend yourself," Lambchop said and Skeeter nodded. "I know he use to try and call you, I saw the notes on your desk. I know it hasn't been recent, but maybe he thinks he is giving you your space. After all, you weren't very welcoming the last time."

"I was in bed with Miranda when he showed up," Ed growled and waved his arms. "What was I suppose to do, kick her out?"

"Oh god no," Skeeter said. "Lambchop, cut him some slack, you're seen Miranda." Skeeter turned to Ed. "I don't want to seem like a vulture, but really I am. I still haven't gotten her number."

"All right, I concede that point," Lambchop said with a wave of his hand, "but you didn't call him afterwards and that had to be an embarrassing situation for him. All you're doing is running circles, both of you, so one of you has to be the better man, and I volunteer you, to get his mess straightened out. No matter what comes of it, you should make the effort because he does mean something to you and you don't' want to lose him."

"I really wish I had gotten lab assistants that I couldn't stand," Ed groaned. "How the fuck do you make me feel even shorter than I already am? No one will ever believe you if you tell them that I referred to myself as short, so don't try it," he warned afterwards.

"Well then, let's go sell arrays to the military and retire to the islands," Lambchop grinned.

"Can I have all the numbers of all the girls you've ever dated?" Skeeter asked, then yelped and crawled away when Ed made a swat at him.

**

"Aren't you going to the presentation this afternoon? It's over on the parade grounds, were you not informed?" Hawkeye stood in the doorway of his office, several files under her arm. She'd obviously been anticipating the office to be empty so she'd have a place to read and plot.

"I'm sure that General Tenhouse and the others can handle it," Roy said, glancing up from his own file.

"I thought Edward would be there," she continued, walking in and heading for the empty table. "I was sure you'd want to see him, you haven't seen him in a while."

"Edward is past the hand holding stage," Roy said, looking down at his file again. "I'm sure I was aggravation enough in his youth that he doesn't need me there now when he's being an adult."

"I know you're not going to volunteer any information about what has happened to keep you from rushing eagerly to see your favorite protege" Riza said, settling and opening a folder. "And I'm sure it's not any of my business. But no matter what it is, Edward will be very disappointed you aren't there."

"I don't know about that," Roy murmured, still not looking up.

"You can think what you like, but I know you prided yourself on the relationship you built with both him and Alphonse after they left the shelter of your wing. I'm sure, even if it's some fight between you, that he will be looking for you amongst the crowd."

Roy looked up at her then, but she was looking down at the papers before her. He tapped the desk under his fingers and worked his jaw back and forth. Their last meeting had parted under strained circumstance and he wasn't sure what his reception would be. But Edward was old enough to be professional about it; he was here to do a job, something he'd always been exceedingly good at...doing a job.

So, was it selfish to sit in his office and hide from the ache in his chest? Was he not man enough to admit to himself that he did want to see Edward, presentation not withstanding. He had to get over it sometimes, what was he suppose to do? Avoid Edward forever? That wasn't an option.

"I'm not sure what I'd say to him," he finally volunteered. "I'm not sure he'd be happy to see me. I want to see him, but I don't want to interfere with his work. I don't want to make him uncomfortable to be here, after all, I'm not the only reason he comes here anymore."

"Maybe you should let Edward decide that for himself," Riza said, turning a page. "In a crowd situation it would be easy for either of you to excuse yourself from speaking with no one thinking anything the wiser. It's probably the best confrontational situation for either of you, pardon my saying so, sir."

"I'm glad you're all my logic," he said, standing and turning to get his coat.

"Sir?" she said, glancing up now, looking a bit confused.

"It would take to long to explain," he said with a small smile. "As you were Colonel, I'd better be leaving now if I'm to make it on time."

"Yes sir," she said, and watched him go.

**

On the parade grounds sat a standard military escort car. Several yards away was a half wall barrier and behind that several uniformed people milled. Roy slipped into the crowd, blended in with the other blue clad people around him. There were several minutes of aimless shuffling and murmuring and whose back was straighter contests before 4 men were escorted onto the field and came to a stop before the half barrier wall. Two of them, in uniform, were carrying a large crate between them.

At first glance, Roy thought two of the men with John Collins and Edward were military personnel, but upon closer inspection, _(and the fact one of them was wearing a hodge podge uniform that looked vaguely Drachman)_ , he realize it was the two men Ed worked with. Lambchop and...and..., _(he could never remember the other ones name...Skellator? Squeaker? What was it?)_ , the other one. He started to muse on just why they were in uniform with John Collins started to speak.

"Gentlemen, thank you for meeting with us today. As you know, we of Magnus Enterprises, research and development division, have long been interested in the application of alchemy for every day use. To this end, we have developed a line of arrays accessible to the common man. Years of research and study are no longer required to deploy, with assured success, a wide variety of arrays in the service of commercial and industrial construction. We were approached by the military to formulate and design an array capable of turning a light issues vehicle into armored protection with such an application. We are here today to present to you our findings. I now turn this demonstration over to our project leader, Mr. Edward Elric."

There was polite applause of which Roy participated.

Ed scanned the assembled crowd, his eyes lighted on Roy and hovered there a moment before moving on. He took a deep breath before he began to speak.

"Actually, I don't have a lot of verbal presentation to go over. My colleagues and I decided that seeing was believing and so we arranged this more practical demonstration. Please stay behind the barrier at all times. We'll be using live rounds, so everyone stay over there, ok? Ok." He turned his back on them and a few of the assembled started to chatter amongst themselves. Ed whipped around an delivered a narrowed eyed look that would have silenced volcanoes and the chatter subsided. He nodded, as if to himself and turned again to the two men with him. The crate was relieved of it's lid and the one in the vaguely drachman uniform pulled a standard issue rifle from it and slung it over his shoulder. Then he and the other man, in amestarian uniform, jogged over to the car and took up positions.

"Any time you're ready!" Ed called over to them.

The two faced each other, squared their shoulders and cleared their throats.

"Ah, You fascist dog of the amestarian military," the sorta Drachman one yelled, "prepare to meet your inferior maker! A touring car is no match for my rifle!" He waved the rifle around and made threatening gestures with his fist. He looked over his shoulder at Ed. Ed turned to look at the assembled.

"Fascist wasn't in the original script," he said. "Mr. Keetering has the tendency to ad lib in stressful situations. I think the line was suppose to be fabulous." But of course, Ed didn't sound like he was apologizing. Then he turned back to the two of them and made a signal with his hand for them to continue.

"Oh no! I'm caught unawares and totally unprepared in hostile territory," Lambchop lamented in a falsetto voice. "What will I do?"

Lambchop stuck his hand in the air with his finger pointed up, it was supposedly to symbolize he had an idea. "Wait, the LES array shall save me!" He sang out in triumph.

He then dug into the pocket of his uniform jacket and pulled out a neatly folded square of paper. Roy pondered that Skidmarks could have shot him twenty times over by now, but he should be more charitable, after all, these men were researchers, not actors. Lambchop then unfolded the paper and slapped it against the car, it fluttered to the ground, he bent over to pick it up. The man with the rifle seemed to be running in place in excitement. Lambchop then pressed the paper to the car again, and this time it stuck. Ed turned back to the audience.

"We're still having a few adhesive issues, but they'll be sorted out," he assured, then he turned back to the drama in action and nodded them on.

Lambchop placed his hand on the array and it immediately activated. It flashed brilliantly in a pale yellow and the whole car was quickly enveloped. Once the glow faded, the car seemed to have a bit of a metallic sheen and Lambchop whipped the door open dramatically and dove him. Then he took a moment to scrabble back around and pull the door closed.

"Now?!" Skooter asked loudly, still jogging in place.

"Now!" Ed told him and pointed at the car as if to remind the man at what he was suppose to be shooting at.

Skeeve managed to pop off a few shots that rang off the car's hood and windshield. There was a bit of muttering among the crowd. Ed called out to the man, and he stopped firing and trotted obediently to Ed's side. Ed turned to the crowd.

"I'm aware that the lot of you aren't going to be very impressed with a mere standard issue rifle, so I took the liberty of bringing something a bit heavier." Ed bent over to the crate then and hefted out of it the largest assault rifle Roy had ever seen. In fact, it seemed to be a custom model and there was no doubt in Roy's mind it was a custom Elric style model. Ed balanced the gun for a moment on his automail arm. "We wanted to show you the true strength of the LES armor system, Skeeter stand back," he finished as he turned toward the car.

 _Ah! Skeeter! Why could Roy never remember that?_

The first barrage nearly deafened him. They all threw them hands up to cover their ears as Ed cheerfully chewed the scenery and the car before them with rapid fire heavy assault rounds. The car rattled and pinged, rocked and swayed and Ed emptied what had to be an entire clip in a deafening roar that shook the very foundations of the parade grounds stadium seating. Finally, the echoes died away and they slowly removed their hands from their ears. There was a strange calm to the whole scene for several long moments, then the car door burst open and Lambchop leaped from the interior and threw his hands in the air.

The applause this time was quite a bit louder and Ed and his two companions all bowed to the assembled. But when Ed raised from the bow he was looking directly at Roy.

Touche.

**

There was a lot of back thumping and hand shaking in the auditorium where a little post demonstration sortie had been planned. There were catered snacky things and an open bar and all sorts of reasons for the brass to hod nod and cavort and drink. John Collins seemed to be the center of the hand shaking stampede, but Ed took a few himself. Lambchop and Skeeter even rubbed a few military palms. Roy waited for most of the congratulations to subside and everyone to at least have one drink before he started his approach. Lambchop saw him coming. He did the most amazing thing. He took Skeeter's elbow and he pulled him away, and then together, he and Skeeter, they made their way to the very far side of the room leaving Ed standing there, looking after them.

It was if they were inviting him to make a move.

It was like they knew something.

Ed turned then, saw him there, seemed to look for an escape then seemed to steady himself. Roy decided to adopt the casual, non-confrontational saunter buffered by a playfully structured greeting to put Ed at ease.

"Quite a demonstration, Fullmetal," he said, stopping a couple of feet away, "but perhaps you should invest in getting your subordinates some acting lessons if this is the be your modus operandi for demonstrations. I wasn't sure whether to be impressed or amused."

But instead of rising to the bait, as would be his norm, Edward gave him a half smile.

"You..., uh, you could be both," he said and shifted and stared at the drink in his hand.

"Well, I am both," Roy said and he too suddenly found some far off point in the room fascinating to stare at. They stood like that for a few minutes, being close, but neither speaking. Ed gave in first.

"I'm sorry to hear about Stella, she was nice, Al and I, we liked her," he offered.

"I liked her, too," Roy said, "and she liked me. But we decided that the liking was more appropriate to friendship then anything else really."

"That's good, I mean it's not good, I mean that you're still friends," Ed said, flustered. "I mean it's good that you're still friends. I'm sorry about that night you came over. You've done a lot for me and I feel like I let you down. I kind of feel like I wasn't there for you like all the times you've been there for me," and Ed looked at him then, the half smile turning almost sad.

"You were fine," Roy said softly. "I'm the one who breached protocol. It was rather impulsive of me, and if anything, I should apologize." He took a deep breath. "Because of recent events between us I assumed that you would want to hear the news, and that was presumptuous, maybe even arrogant. I've been having a discussion with myself on that topic."

Ed turned toward him then. The sad smile slipping more to a true smile.

"You know what? You get really formal about things that make you nervous. It's an observation I've made over the years. It's your way of making other people still feel comfortable and like everything is in control. I think I'm old enough to appreciate it now, so thanks."

"You're welcome," Roy said, not knowing what else to say.

"We gotta figure this out," Ed said suddenly. "We gotta figure out what is going on here. I know I don't really like being like this around you, not knowing what to say. You're Roy for fuck's sake, I know what to say to Roy only lately Roy has been sort of confusing to me. I have all these feelings running around and I'm not so good at sorting them out. Wouldn't you know that's the only thing I'm slow on? I don't want to not know what to say to you. I've always been able to say anything to you. I don't want to lose that."

Roy took a few steps closer and Ed watched him come, didn't retreat.

"Do you know, I feel the same way?" he said and the corners of Ed's mouth picked up a bit more. "I've missed you. And I would very dearly love to figure this out so we can go on from here. I really want to talk to you, but I don't think this is the place."

"I, um, I'm the presumptuous one now because I took a couple of days off and can stay through the weekend," Ed said. "I was kind of hoping I could stay at your place on the off chance you'd want to talk."

"Your presumptions are always better than mine," Roy said. "You know you are welcome any time, more so now than ever. We'll talk, we'll figure this out. I'm glad to have you back."

"Glad to be back," Ed murmured.

"Let's enjoy the party for a bit, no need to pull you away from your celebration, I'll get myself a drink," Roy said. He sounded more like Roy in those few words than he'd sounded like Roy for the last couple of months and Ed felt himself relax. Roy moved away then to get himself said drink and Ed glanced across the room to where Skeeter and Lambchop had retreated. Skeeter had his forehead pressed to Lambchops shoulder and Lambchop was patting his back, but when Lambchop saw him looking he gave him a huge grin and a thumbs up sign.

"Your friends seem to think you've scored," Roy said behind him and Ed turned quickly to see him standing there with drink in hand, grinning. "Should I feel lucky?"

"Depends, I can either bore you to death with alchemical equations or make rude comments about other people's hair cuts, your choice. That's my typical date line up. I'm not very good with small talk," Ed shrugged. "Lambchop usually sets me up. He'll be proud I collared you all on my own."

"My how you've grown," Roy said and gave Lambchop a small wave across the room. "What's wrong with the other one?"

"He's traumatized that I am thinking about liking a guy," Ed sighed. "He's a handful. In an odd way, I'm paying for my raising," and he grinned that lovely grin at Roy. This time, Roy could bask in it and appreciate it.

"Kids these days," Roy commiserated, and took a drink. He studied the contents of his glass.

"I think you know that it's not going to be easy," he offered more seriously.

"Nothing worth having is," Ed returned with out hesitation.

"With that in mind, let's let ourselves off the hook for the rest of the evening. There are some fine taxpayer dollars going to waste on the buffet table, I feel a civic duty to eat as much as I can," Roy intoned grimly.

"You know, that's what I like about you, always thinking of others," Ed replied, then followed Roy as he turned to lead the way.

  


 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by Feriowind, colors by Myself


	7. Chapter 7

Ed sat his bags at the end of the couch and pressed his lips and turned to look at Roy who was still standing in the arched doorway that lead into the living room.

"Here we are," Ed said and clapped his hands in an non-alchemic way then shoved his fingers in the back pockets of his pants.

"Indeed," Roy said, looking around the living room as if were new to him, but finally letting his dark eyes settle on Ed. "I suppose I need to change and then maybe we can sit in here and talk."

"Yeah, that's good, you do that," Ed said. "It's not like I haven't been here before, I can make myself comfortable. I'll just...sit on the couch or something until you get back."

Roy looked at him for a moment more before turning to go out the doorway, then he stopped and looked back at Ed.

"Alright, then I'll be right back," and he turned again, this time successfully leaving the doorway and heading down the hall.

Ed looked around before performing a flop onto the couch. He threw his arm up over the back of it and he threw a foot up onto the coffee table and stared at the sheers over the big picture window that looked out the front of the house onto Roy's pathetically small front lawn. Ed bet it took like a second to mow it, but Roy wouldn't know that because Roy was above menial things like mowing lawns and he would bestow a few cens on some local boy to do it for him. He was rotten. Had he ever worked a real day in his whole life? Ed kind of doubted it.

The fact that the coffee table was dust free was also another thing that included Roy's non-involvement. Roy had a cleaning lady, and she came like clock work, every Thursday and picked up after the man like she was his mother or something. Ever since Ed had made good his escape, Roy had to pay someone to clean the house. Oh how unfortunate, poor Roy, having to hire an outsider because his court appointed servant had finally gained his freedom.

So, what was it they were going to talk about exactly? Ed found, that though he knew they _needed_ to talk he had not the first clue what they were actually _needing_ to talk about. Well maybe this whole, ‘hi let's be each other's significant other until we can't stand it anymore and throttle each other.’ Because the thought had crossed Ed's mind that if Ed did take up with Roy and Roy made those snorty little sounds out of his nose every time Ed said something he disagreed with? Well, there would be violence.

Roy came back in then, de-militarized and took a seat in the chair across from the couch. He folded his hands in his lap and raised an eyebrow at Ed's slack and sprawled posture.

"You take making yourself at home very seriously I see," Roy said, a hint of mirth in his voice. "It's not like it's any different from every other time you've been here; but somehow it feels different."

"Yeah," Ed replied, suddenly straightening up and sitting forward some. "Yeah, that's it. That's what I'm sitting here feeling. I don't know why. I was just laying here thinking about what a spoiled and lazy thing you are with your hired staff and you know, that's it exactly. It's like it always was, but now it's not really like that. And that makes no sense, but I get it. I get what you mean."

Roy nodded, as if he were sage and adjusted himself in the chair a bit.

"What are we going to talk about?" Ed plunged ahead. "I mean, I guess we need to talk about the fact that I want you and you must want me and that sort of thing. But I don't know, do you have those kinds of conversations before hand or does it just happen? I always thought it just happened. But maybe it's a slow progression, and if that is the case we've been having the slowest progression in the history of man. It's not like I'm a total novice, I mean, I get around and things."

"Indeed you do, your lady friend’s voice was lovely, what was her name?" Roy asked, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair and putting his cheek in his palm.

"Miranda, why?" Ed asked, suddenly suspicious. "Why would you want to know?"

"Maybe I'd like to know the name of my rival," Roy asked with a lift of his eyebrows. "Did you think I wanted to know for unscrupulous reasons?"

"She's not any rival of yours, and you got a rep a mile wide," Ed said, slouching back again. "So don't worry about it. She's one of those friends that had an itch to scratch but wasn't looking for anything more. I liked it that way," Ed waved his hand. "So what really happened with Stella?"

"Exactly what I told you, I don't feel the need to bore you with the details," Roy said. "Now, we seem of a like mind on the possibility of this indeed going somewhere, so how would you like to start? As you yourself just mentioned we've been taking it slow for years, and with such restraint on our parts, even if it was unknowing but I don't feel the need to take it slow anymore."

"Uh, well, ok, so what does that entail? I mean...the couch is pretty comfortable and we can draw the curtains...," Ed started on a bit of a stammer.

Roy's eyebrows rose, _(and other parts of his anatomy thought about it)_ , it was so very like Ed to take any suggestion literally and for once he was rather glad of Ed's obsessive need to take everything at face value.

"I think I might enjoy that, but the bed is bigger and we are less likely to roll onto the floor," Roy said, rising from his chair. "I want to do this properly with all the variables in place. This first time has been a long time coming."

"What sort of variables are we talking about?" Ed asked, trying not to glance in the direction of the bedroom. "I mean we only need a couple of basic necessities...you mentioned the bed, that's one of them," Ed said.

"I would like to suggest an atmosphere," Roy half purred and took a step or two closer. Ed pushed his shoulders up but kept his eyes on Roy's face and didn't retreat. "Can I tell you something?" Roy asked.

"You can tell me anything," Ed said, looking so open and earnest Roy wanted to snatch him forward and kiss him breathless on the spot. But he shouldn't deny himself the pleasure of this; savor every nuance of Ed, offering himself, laying himself bare metaphorically. It may be egotistical of him, but he knew he was a man of ego all along, but here Ed was again, asking for Roy's touch. Roy himself had been instrumental in bringing this new Ed, this Ed that was delectable and obtainable, again to the threshold of his desire. This time, Roy would not be denied.

"I always thought you were exceedingly sexy in your biker wear," Roy confessed. "All that leather hugging all those details, it was always a welcome sight, Edward."

Ed looked like the proverbial deer in the proverbial headlights. His jaw flapped a time or two without anything coming out and then he seemed to gather himself together enough to speak.

"You did?" he said, sounding a bit astonished. "You thought I looked hot? You always looked kinda annoyed when I tromped into your house in those big boots. You didn't want me to put any of my dusty things on the furniture...but you thought that was hot? Me?"

Why did Edward sound like he found the thought of himself being eye candy so unusual?

"So this is the atmosphere you're talking about...and I'm not here on my bike and I don't have my leather...wait, _you_ have leather!" Ed promptly turned and trotted back out to the foyer, going for the coat closet.

"I do? Are you talking about my trench coat, Edward? Wait...Ed," Roy moved to follow him. He saw Ed yank it off the hanger and throw an arm through a sleeve. It was, predictably, much too large for him and it hit the back of his ankles and his hands disappeared up the sleeves. Ed lifted his arms, shook the sleeves of the coat down and clapped his white gloved hands.

"I like that trench," was as much as Roy got out before Edward's body was enveloped in blue lightning. And after that, Roy just stood back to watch. The leather, the fabric of Edward's suit, even his shoes became a maelstrom around his body of almost gossamer looking ribbons, and peeking between these gaps were glimpses of tantalizing flesh. A nipple, a brief glimpse of abs, the erotic peek of a navel and the even more alluring flash of wispy golden curls on Edward's lower stomach. Each defined line of his chest, of his shoulders and arms, the square of his hip, the smooth skin of his flank; a maddening peep show of what was surely to come. Roy realized he was holding his breath.

When the whirling stopped and the clothes settled again, Ed stood there as if he'd just rode in on his bike. If Roy were to give a thorough inspection, he would notice that most of his trench coat went to the 'boots', a bit to the leather 'pants' and it would be obvious that Ed used the remaining leather as light cover to his duster, while stealing fabric and stretching it very thin, from the clothes he'd actually been wearing. But it was enough to perpetuate the fantasy and it was enough to bring a sharp edge to Roy's _want_.

Ed was flushed, grinning, pleased with himself and his eyebrows rose when Roy advanced on him. He half yelped when Roy drove him back against the wall and he flailed in an entertaining way when he was slid along the wall and wedged into a corner. Roy insistently pushed with his knee until Ed parted his thighs and then Roy pressed his body against Ed's, as much as he could and Ed gasped and squirmed and even bared his throat, and Roy grinned in a feral manner.

"What...what the fuck?" Ed said in a breathless way, the kind of way that went straight to Roy's groin. "I thought you were all sophisticated and shit, you know, smooth talker, slow seducer...," Ed licked his lips, his eyes focusing on Roy's nose.

"Do you really think the sight of you transmuting your clothing to please me leaves me with any restraint whatsoever? I suppose we could have an introduction. My mouth? My tongue? Meet Edward's mouth and tongue," and Roy covered Ed's mouth then and Ed yelped a bit into it, but submitted instantly and was very obedient when Roy's tongue demanded attention.

Ed's hands were flat against the wall on either side of the corner and he kept lifting his right leg and kicking it out, and so finally, Roy let him breath.

"Smooth enough for you?" Roy purred, sliding a hand up and down the side of Ed's neck and then finally hooking his fingers in the top of Ed's transmuted tank top. Ed licked his lips and lowered his foot back to the floor.

"I think my tongue has rug burn," he half grinned.

Roy gave a little tug with his fingers and heard the faint sound of fabric ripping. He looked down at where he'd hooked his fingers into Ed's shirt and sure enough the fabric was giving way under the slight pressure of his tug.

"You transmuted this fabric very thin," Roy said, tugging some more and watching the shirt give way as if it were made of little more than tissue. He just continued to pull and the shirt ripped neatly, all the way down and Roy released it. It hung open revealing half of Ed's chest, his automail shoulder and a dusky nipple. Roy looked back up at Ed slowly.

"I had to make do," Ed protested faintly. "What...you going to rip my clothes off with your teeth?" And the mere suggestion from his own lips made Ed squirm in the corner and rub his front against Roy's front.

"Could you make it edible?" Roy teased, his own grin going back to something just beyond predatory and Ed pressed his lips and actually considered it.

"I wouldn't vouch for the taste," Ed began, "but it would be good fiber. You might get stuff stuck in your teeth, man I hate that, stuff stuck in your teeth. Skeeter likes to eat celery and he gets these little threads in his teeth and it about drives me batshit to have to see it...FUCK," was how Ed ended.

Roy had a handful of crotch. It wasn't his crotch, it was Ed's crotch. It was a sizable lump and it was warm and hard and barely covered by any fabric at all. He pressed and rolled it in his palm and Ed tried to do a split right there against the wall and reached up to grab onto Roy's shoulders for balance. Convinced he now had Ed's attention again, he ran his hand up Ed's stomach and hooked his fingers into the waist band of the transmuted jeans. With a strong jerk the front of those soon were gaping open as well.

"You gonna make me naked in the hall?" Ed whined without any fight. He kept lifting his leg and acting like he wanted to hook it around Roy.

"And what if I do?" Roy husked to him, leaning in close, pressing Ed to the wall, hands gripping Ed's hips for a moment before going back to his ass, cupping his butt cheeks to squeeze and lift.

Ed took full advantage of his position to wrap both legs around Roy Mustang's hips now. Roy grunted and the sound was just _divine_ and Ed wanted to lick his face and couldn't figure out why he wanted to do it but proceeded to do it anyways.

"Make me naked in the hall, fuck me in the hall I guess," Ed panted between licks. "Fuck Mustang, how is it all you gotta do is growl a few words at me and I'm so horny I want to eat your face off. Why is it? Why?"

"My dear Fullmetal," the general gasped as he began to grind against Ed using the wall as a brace, "you are an alchemist and you should be well acquainted with _chemistry_."

The problem with trying to dry hump Ed through sheetrock was that Ed wanted to hump back, and Ed was predictably the stronger of the two. Where as Roy was using the wall to help him simply hold Edward up; Ed was using the wall as leverage to thrust forward to meet Roy's initiated grinds. It wasn't working quite as well as Roy had planned and after a particularly strong counter thrust on Ed's part he was propelled a few feet back. But he was game and turned, still holding Ed up; Ed still trying to lick the top layer of skin off his face; and staggered a few steps down the hall.

"You can do it old man," Ed grinned in wicked merriment, clenching tighter with his legs and arms. "After all, how heavy can I be? You told me yourself on several occasions I was kinda small, remember?" After this declaration that was really...beyond astonishing to Roy, Ed decided to try to eat Roy's bottom lip. This caused Roy to get off course and walk into the wall in the hall way, they bounced off of it and hit the opposite wall. Roy gave a mighty exhale, bounced Ed up higher onto his chest and wrapped his arms under Ed's ass to keep him aloft.

Ed now had both hands in his hair and was trying to rub him bald and Roy was busy trying to taste Ed's tonsils when they staggered off course again, but instead of hitting a wall this time, they went through the kitchen door and had a brief moment of really off balanced teetering before Roy was able to right himself at the last second.

They let each other breath and looked around briefly. Roy went for the counter and sat Ed's ass on it and backed off a moment to pant. Ed swung his legs back and forth and grinned, leaning forward and wiggling his eyebrows.

"This is quite opportune," Roy said with his own leer, "here we are in the land of homemade lubricant. We have some choices...butter, lard or cooking oil?"

"The solids weird me out," Ed said, "bring on the oil."

Roy bowed then, yanked a cabinet door open next to Ed's head and pulled out a bottle. Ed decided since Roy was right there that he should just go ahead and try to suck Roy's ear off, it's not like he'd need it in order to fuck Ed, it was extraneous. Roy was unscrewing the cap of the bottle, trying to turn his head to save his ear and offer Ed his lips instead. Ed might think better about pulling them off because Roy would just look funny afterwards. Roy got the cap off but his face was preoccupied and he just hovered there at the counter, holding the open bottle in one hand and the cap in the other. He soon abandoned them there to get his hands on Ed, because Ed was getting rather demanding and sliding his ass back and forth on the counter and that was just enticing. Roy decided it was a good time to go ahead and rip the paper thin things substituting for jeans right off Ed's hips and Ed didn't seem to mind as long as he could try to shove his entire head down Roy's throat while he did so. Neither one noticed that Roy managed to elbow the bottle of oil onto its side until Roy got his hands firmly under Ed's almost nude ass and tried to lift again.

Then they both hit the floor.

For a moment it was all flailing limbs and grunts of surprise and frustration. Roy tried to push himself up right but both his hands slid on the oil slicked floor and then his chin connected with it sharply. Ed tried to push up on his ass and laugh, but his ass went south and his head went north and thumped a good one on the floor as well. They both lay there for a moment.

"We're not going to look at this like fate is telling us this is a bad idea," Roy said, trying out his jaw to make sure it was unbroken. "Let's try to get up again, despite the intense pain and the fact I may lose my teeth I still want to fuck you senseless."

Ed immediately began to thrash and managed to roll over onto his stomach and snake his way out of the oily spot. He grabbed Roy by the shoulder and heaved as Roy scrambled to follow. Roy reached up and grabbed the handle of the ice box and slowly got to his feet. He then reached down and gripped Ed's hand and between the two of them they got Ed up as well. Ed braced himself against the ice box and they both cautiously slid their feet around to make sure they had traction.

"We seem to be in the clear," Ed panted. He grinned up at Roy, ponytail askew, ripped clothing gaping open and Roy grabbed his chin and attempted to suffocate him by trying to get his mouth over Ed's entire face. There was much sucking and artless pawing for a few moments. Roy grabbed another handful of what was passing as Ed's jeans and ripped it free, dropping it to the floor. This left the entire expanse of Ed's lower stomach bare and the tantalizing evidence that Ed was a natural blond trailing down into what little bit of fabric was left that was preserving his modesty. Ed's own erection was threatening to overcome that.

"Alright," Roy said, trying to sound steady and not quite managing it, "the rest of this needs to come off. I think we should move to the bedroom so I can finally get a good look at what you've been hiding all these years."

"I didn't try to hide it, you just never came around to look when I was being slutty," Ed growled. Then they both grabbed each other and took a cautious step away from the icebox. Slowly, still clinging, they made their way toward the kitchen door. Roy stopped and stretched hard and Ed held onto his arm like a pair trying to rescue a bottle from a pond of frozen ice. Roy managed to snag the cooking oil bottle and preserve what little was left in it, and he hugged it to his chest as they gingerly picked their way to the hall. They picked up speed going down the hall to Roy's bedroom and when they made it in Roy gave Ed a really hard shove at the bed and Ed went down face first. Roy pounced him, ground against his upturned and mostly revealed ass. Ed tried to spit out Roy's comforter and braced his hands on the bed and pushed up, though not with a lot of force as the bed sank under his palms.

Roy tried to keep him pinned and get the bottle of oil on the bedside table without spilling it and Ed growled like a cornered animal and tried to buck Roy off. Roy pushed down on the back of Ed's head with his free hand and Ed slammed his automail shin into the side of Roy's leg. Predictably, Ed won and Roy hopped back hissing, but managing to keep hold of the bottle and not drop it.

Ed flipped over then, bared his teeth and Roy snorted and squared his shoulders, slammed the bottle down on the bedside table and dove on. The bed groaned mightily beneath them and Ed squinted his eyes closed and slapped at Roy with both hands then they started to grapple in earnest. Roy was trying to grab Ed's hands and Ed was playing keep away and in frustration Roy just planted his hands to either side of Ed and started to grind. Ed, not to be outdone, reached around and grabbed Roy's ass and tried to arch up to grind back harder and all the friction going on finally wore away the thin layer of fabric over Ed's crotch. At first this felt really, really good...at first.

"HOLY FUCK WAIT UP," Ed shrieked, "you're giving me rug burn in a place no man should ever have rug burn, FUCK, GET UP," and Ed released Roy's ass to plant his hands on Roy's chest and shove.

"OK, OK," Roy snarled back just before he almost went backwards off the bed. He managed to catch himself and sit up on his knees and began to frantically work at his belt and the front of his pants. Ed reached up to help, _(but not really)_ , and grabbed Roy's belt and gave a yank. Roy crashed back down on top of him and the Ed's chin dug right into the pit of his throat. Then Roy had to roll off to gag and Ed sat up beside him, got on his knees and hung over him, fretting and wringing his hands.

When Roy could speak again, he gave Ed a twist of his lip and a flare of his nostrils.

"This is going to kill me, but by god I'm going to die a happy man," he croaked, then pushed himself up and pushed Ed back down and Ed flopped back on the bed and spread himself out like a blanket.

"Do it before something else happens!" Ed encouraged. When he spread his arms the seams in the shoulders of the transmuted duster gave loud ripping sounds.

Roy nodded and then managed to get his pants undone and shoved them, and his boxers to his knees. He then noticed Ed still had on the knee high black boots he'd made mostly from Roy's trench coat. These seemed to be made of sterner stuff. Roy tugged and tugged but they refused to rip at his demand. Ed lifted his head and looked down at Roy, lifted a leg helpfully, but it was a no-go. Roy snarled and finally gave up, settled for ripping the last remnants of the clothing Ed still had on off and sat back up to look down at him.

Ed, naked on his bed, save for a ripped black duster on his back and a pair of knee high, leather biker boots.

"You know, never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this scenario, not even once," Roy said in a dazed way.

"So, you use to think about having sex with me?" Ed asked pushing up on his elbows.

"Of course I did, you threw yourself at me those years ago, how could you think I didn't?" Roy said, putting his hands on his naked hips. "Just because I was acting in your best interest doesn't mean I don't have a fertile imagination."

"Ok, well," Ed said shifting a bit, "was I hotter in your head then than I am right now?"

"No, I think that right at this moment, you are probably the hottest thing on the planet," Roy said. "As usual Ed you're above and beyond. I stand constantly amazed at your achievements."

Ed grinned then and flopped back, threw his arms over his head and stretched. He lifted a foot and kicked Roy lightly in the side.

"So what are you waiting for then?" He asked, balling up the comforter in his fists. "I want the legendary Roy Mustang to make me scream his name so loud the house shakes on its very foundations."

"So," Roy said, "no pressure then?" He cracked his knuckles and reached for the bottle of oil on the bedside table.

Ed threw both his legs in the air and Roy admired the boots, even if they were transmuted from his own trench coat.

"So you replicated your boots from before," he said casually as he oiled up his fingers. "They are a bitch, how do you get them on at home?"

"I transmute them, duh," Ed said with an eye roll. "How do you think I could replicate them so well?"

Roy moved his shoulder under one of Ed's legs and reached between them to skate his fingers under Ed's balls and up the cleft of his ass. Ed sucked in a breath and Roy leaned forward, forcing Ed to bend his knee over Roy's shoulder. Roy found what he was looking for, began to press and rub and Ed let go of the breath he was holding and did this amazing thing with his stomach muscles.

"That is amazing," Roy commented, working slowly to get Ed relaxed and ready, "how do you do that? I don't think I could do that," and he looked down at himself. "I mean I can suck it in and out, but you just like rolled it all the way down, that is some tight control."

"It...it's just...sit ups," Ed groaned, turning his head slowly back and forth. "I do sit ups, yeah, ok," he swallowed.

While Roy was looking down, he took the time to take in the competition. He was a bit envious that Ed's pubes where both blond and curled, where as his own where very straight and matched the hair on his head. He scooted a little closer, forcing Ed into more of a bend and Ed's breathing hitched up a bit and he flexed his chest.

"You know, I'm starting to feel like the pale, skinny guy on the beach here," Roy said.

"Uh huh," Ed said distractedly. He kept clenching and unclenching the comforter in his hands.

"So...am I living up to your sort of imagined expectations?" Roy asked, reaching with his other hand to stroke through the blond curls he was jealous of and drag his fingertips along Ed's cock.

"Pretty much, except without all the chit-chat," Ed said in a kind of strained way and then he groaned and trembled. It was obvious he wanted to arch to the touch on his cock, but not pull away from the fingers currently inside him.

"Is the chit-chat some sort of detractor from how you imagined me making love to you in your fantasies?" Roy continued, running his fingers down to Ed's balls and then back up again.

"Not when you do that," Ed said, voice strained and high. He gave in and arched then and Roy followed him with his hand, wrapping his fingers around Ed's cock.

"Well that's good to know, but really it's a technique to get you to relax. But you seem to be doing that pretty well on your own. I suppose I _should_ know you're no stranger to this, but well, I feel like I should treat you as brand new because this is brand new between us," Roy said.

"I wish I hadn't fucking told you to make me scream," Ed said, panting, "because it made you nervous and now you're stalling...oh fuck Roy, fuckfuck..." and he trailed off as Roy began to stroke his cock to shush him.

It only he wasn't so fucking perceptive, he wasn't quite Al, but he could get close!

"Maybe I am a little nervous," Roy grudgingly admitted. "But I also want the chance to feel you up and watch you work up a sweat. I want to see you want me. Maybe I want to see you ache for me. Maybe I want to savor the fact that someone like you could still carry a torch for someone like me all these years."

Ed was panting lightly, his cock throbbed against Roy's palm, he tightened and relaxed around Roy's fingers. He pulled hard at Roy's comforter.

"Best thing, other than getting Al back, to ever happen to me," Ed stuttered out, eyes squeezed shut. "Who wouldn't...want you?" And Ed tilted his head back and gave a low throaty sound. But it was more his words than anything else that had happened up until that very moment that made Roy want him like he'd never wanted anything before.

He lowered Ed's leg off his shoulder, withdrew his fingers, pressed Ed's thighs open wide and moved further up between them.

"Do it, do it, do it," Ed begged in a ragged, husky whisper.

It only took a moment of guidance and a steady push forward and they were joined. They were rocking against each other. He was _inside_ Edward. He was predator and the prey, he was gone.

"FUCK," Ed started off with, loud and gravely, "FUCKING HELL," he continued and yanked the comforter down, over his head and eyes, he gritted his teeth and bent his knees up. And those sleek, black, unbearably sexy leather boots rubbed against Roy's sides. Roy leaned forward, adding pressure and weight, giving himself a better angle for momentum, lengthening his strokes. It was precise ecstasy, it was exacting pleasure and he wanted to give Ed all the experience and expertise he could bring to the table.

He really wanted Ed to scream his name.

The younger man bucked beneath him, sobbing in air and perspiring out his lust. He gave Roy a beautiful display of the musculature of the male form, for every one of his was corded and tense and on display. His Adam’s apple bobbed and he kept his eyes hidden under the edge of Roy's comforter. Roy raised the sakes by once again reaching between their undulating bodies and gripping Ed's cock and Ed opened his mouth and made a pained inarticulate sound and his stomach jerked hard. He threw his head to the side and railroaded his breathing.

Ed was holding out, Ed was trying not to come.

And suddenly Roy was 25 again and he was a magnificent lover and he knew what it took to make the other person cry out his name and ask for mercy from a bemused god.

"Are you close? Are you close?" Ed asked desperately. "Fuck you, answer me, oh fuckFUCK..."

"I might be," Roy answered him on a low, silky note. In all honesty, just watching Ed succumb to his lovemaking was enough, all he needed, never wanting for more. "I think it depends on something you said you were going to do for me," Roy purred.

"You fucking BASTARD," Ed sobbed and groaned. "You're a bastard, you're a bastard," he panted as his tried to spread himself wider, as he tried very hard to give Roy total dominion.

Roy leaned in hard then, got as close to Ed's face as he could.

"I'm yours," Roy whispered against his jaw.

"ROY!" Ed shrieked and released all over him.

Roy followed him over the brink without another word.

**

Ed grinned as Roy licked him behind the ear, nosed down the side of his neck. He was all twisted up in the comforter and the remains of a duster but he had managed to get one boot off before Roy drew him back down and molded him against his body.

"We are going to have to figure out this commute to our satisfaction," Roy murmured against Ed's temple. "You don't think for one minute I'm going to only have _that_ on the weekends, do you?"

"Yeah, fuck, we have to make a schedule," Ed said, shoving a leg between Roy's legs and wrapping an arm over Roy's waist. "I don't want to leave my job, and you won't leave your stupid General's office, I know."

"It's not stupid," Roy retaliated, "it pays your bills."

"That's another thing, if I'm working for the military by contract, then I guess we need to keep up sort of hush-hush appearances. I mean, I don't want you accused of favoritism," Ed nuzzled against Roy's lips and Roy ran a hand the length of his back.

"Are you kidding me? Everyone I know is going to know just what a stud I am by having a lover who is fourteen years younger than me," Roy grinned as Ed snorted. "It's not a worry, I am not in charge of granting any military contracts, that's Hassler's department."

They lay there for a bit then, quite, basking in afterglow and each other. Roy had freed Ed's ponytail, _(it had mostly escaped it's rubber band corral ages ago)_ , and was idly fingering his hair. Letting it drip through the cracks between his fingers.

"I remember when I never thought I'd get this far," Ed said, drowsy and content. "And what do I have to show for it? A motorcycle, a job and a bastard," he smiled against Roy's collar bone.

"Two out of three isn't bad," Roy said, sounding amused.

"Give up on the fucking car already," Ed growled. "You know what else? I have a life. I think that's the most important thing, I have a life and I get to share it with the guy who gave it to me. I get to actually have one," Ed's voice dropped off into a murmur and Roy kissed his head again.

"I didn't give you a life," Roy said softly, "I just showed you what to do with it. You just needed a push, ok, a really hard shove to get you started."

Ed shrugged, nodded, and pressed closer.

"If you really wanted to keep sharing it with me," Roy continued, "I think you'd at least _consider_ a car."

"I wish you'd shoved me in _front_ of a car when you had the chance, would have taken care of this whole mess," Ed growled.

"Oh Edward, Edward, Edward," Roy sighed, patting his back. "Back then I'm not sure we'd been doing the car any favors."

"You're an unmitigated bastard, do you know that?" Ed asked frankly from the area of Roy's chest.

"Truth hurts." Roy sighed again and gave Ed one last pat.


End file.
